The Smile Away Reformatory Town
by EmperorDoofenshmirtz
Summary: Attendance is no longer optional. Danville will fall. Sequel to 'So Tomorrow, It's Smile Away'. Complete.
1. Perfect Day

**If you haven't read, 'So Tomorrow, It's Smile Away', you probably should before reading this. I know what you're thinking - a sequel already? Well I don't think I'll be able to update this as frequently, so I thought I'd get this up ASAP. This will be longer than my previous story, and it will be the last featuring Smile Away and Thomas. Just a warning, it gets pretty damn dark. Let me know if you think I should up the rating.**

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The Povenmire-Marsh Juvenile Detention Centre.

Dark clouds loomed over the building, the world becoming washed in a shade of dark grey, from the menacing walls to the moors beyond them. The winding road leading in was completely barren and deserted, save for one armoured van which was speeding towards the gates, engine roaring fearsomely. As it reached the entrance, the van skidded violently to a halt. With a low creak, the van doors swung open, and several small figures leaped out, covered head to toe in riot gear, and flanked by taller, older military figures. Adult and child alike pulled into tight formation, turning to face the open van. Inside, dark eyes hovered in the gloom.

"You know how we do these things. Quick and clean." The voice was deep and threatening, without any trace of empathy.

"Sir, yes sir!" The unit chorused, unloading their various weapons: pistols, assault rifles and shotguns. All weapons were simultaneously and dramatically cocked. The symphony of mechanical clicking seemed to appease the man inside the van, which groaned as he apparently rose to his feet. He stepped out of the van, face brought into the grey light.

The drill sergeant was well over six feet tall, standing disciplined and impassive, like a corrupt statue of a Greek god. He seemed to growl as he spoke, as if some restrained animal was trying to escape from the confines of a human prison.

"Begin."

The doors of the detention centre burst open, staff and child patients glancing up in alarm at these heavily armed intruders. There was no time to react – tranquiliser darts hit home with precision, clearing the reception in less than ten seconds.

"Clear!"

In a clear, padded room, Dr Braun wiped his brow. The child in front of him was grinning in an unnerving manner. Still, he thought, the patient has shown improvement. The lobotomy had more or less been reversed, the burns treated, skin back to a healthy colour. Of course, even if they completely wiped all traces of indoctrination, Thomas Rains would still be psychopathic.

"What is that noise?" Braun wondered allowed, voice echoing slightly.

Thomas touched the side of his bald head, where some burn scars were visible. The smile never left his face. Before he spoke, he glanced down at a beautiful watch on his wrist, a very old-fashioned one, which he knew was ticking in synchrony with its twin. He wondered if Ferb still owned it.

"I think my CO has arrived. Aheheh."

Braun frowned, and stood up, fixing his coat. The child was simply unbearable. He had no idea why his wife wanted a baby – after working in this place you tended to run screaming in the opposite direction when someone suggested having a child of your own. He began to move towards the door, turning his head back to address his patient.

"Some progress today, Thomas. Maybe tomorrow we can introduce you to the other children and -!"

The door exploded, a burst of flame propelling Braun back across the cell, connecting harshly against the wall. He did not get up. The low flames began to settle, and black smoke whirled around what used to be a doorway. Thomas took the opportunity to hide his personal belongings underneath his bed. His CO would most likely not approve of arts and crafts projects.

The smoke slowly cleared, and then almost darted away as the drill sergeant swept into the room, mouth curled contemptuously, as if he was disgusted that the smoke had even dared get in his way.

"Thomas."

The English child looked up from his crouched position, dark eyes betraying nothing.

"Sir! What do I owe this extreme pleasure?"

Gunnery Sergeant Ironside leaned forward threateningly. He was easily four times the size of the child in front of him.

"You have cost us a great deal Thomas. Smile Away is gone. I'm under investigation. We have been forced to _accelerate _our plans."

"Well, I didn't mean to _fail _– I was improvising most of the time. Sir."

Ironside straightened up, and glanced at the armoured henchmen behind him.

"Never improvise. You must plan for every situation."

"Fireside Girls are always prepared. You know me. Aheheh." The bald child smirked.

Ironside responded using a manner some consider archaic – that is to say, he grabbed Thomas by the jumpsuit collar and brought him up to eye level.

"You are coming with us. Somehow, you retained some use of free will, but I know you are at least dedicated to the cause. I need that."

His grip tightened around Thomas' scrawny neck, causing the patient to make a sound like a distressed chicken.

"Arkh! … really… I thought you just missed your surrogate son! …could you put me down now, please?"

Ironside released Thomas, dropping him onto the padded floor. The prisoner landed with a small protesting yelp. Ironside began to turn away, heading towards the smoking doorway. Thomas picked himself up, patting away imaginary dust.

Ironside growled back to his protégé,

"A genuine chance for revenge. And the opportunity to do what's right. Are you in?"

Thomas looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. He heard the ticking of his pocket watch, loudly echoing around his head. He closed his eyes, imagining the cogs turning with admirable precision and timing.

"It's cold out. I want a trench coat, and a spade. A sharp one." He began to walk towards the exit. "What's the plan? I deal with the kids while you remove their parents?"

The two moved into the corridor, walking swiftly in step, their 'soldiers' trotting behind them. Ironside sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Nice to see you remembered something. Step quickly. We have a town to seize."

"Aheheh. Ironside, I know what we're going to do today!"

* * *

Phineas warped into the back garden, surprising everyone except Ferb. Phineas had decided he could set about his day's activities much faster if he equipped his watch with a short range teleporter. Ferb had refused to alter his watch in the slightest, so Phineas had resorted to using it merely for impressive entrances. Ferb was almost finished his excavation of the area, ready for what Phineas called 'spelunking' – a word Ferb secretly found hilarious.

"Are we almost there, Ferb?" Phineas called, looking down the cavernous maw to see his step-brother balanced on a rickety piece of scaffolding.

Ferb responded with thumbs up, and Phineas turned to the crowd.

"Okay people, fetch your bungee ropes and head to the nearest Fireside Girl for assistance. While I have your attention, I hope to see you all at the dance tonight, which, as you know, has been relocated to this very garden. Well – go enjoy yourselves!"

The crowd moved to gather their necessary equipment while the speaker gazed on absentmindedly. A young girl wandered to his side, watching him intently.

"So, Phineas," asked Isabella, her charms working overtime. "Whatcha doin tonight?"

Phineas rubbed his temples distractedly as he gazed on.

"I have to organise the whole thing. The adults are all going to some meeting at the town hall, so I offered our place. The council seemed happy, but Ferb's wants to actually enjoy the night, so I'm left with all the work."

It was unlike Phineas to complain, and Isabella moved closer to him, a concerned look on her face.

"Why are you so stressed? It's not like you've let anyone down before?" Isabella let out a small squeak of happiness when Phineas smiled at her.

"Thanks, Isabella. You're right, it'll be fine. Come on, let's go get our equipment."

In the chasm, Ferb applied his palm directly to his face. Stay out of it, he thought quietly to himself. He must be playing dumb. I certainly hope he's playing dumb.

He glanced down at his golden watch, noting the slightly late start to the actual event. It was a fairly old piece, but it held some sort of attachment for him, a reminder of his homeland. He traced his hand along the face, listening as the ticking bounced off of the cavern walls. The sound of a pulley system alerted him to Gretchen's presence. He wiped that dirt from his face and turned to see what she wanted.

The bespectacled girl hung patiently in the air, and at a nod from Ferb, she spoke.

"We need longer bungee ropes. Buford's making a scene – his waist is too big."

Ferb nodded again, and began to return to his work when the Fireside Girl spoke again.

"Umm… Ferb? Do you think maybe we could… go to the dance together?" The girl stopped, obviously expecting an awkward silence, but Ferb alleviated her fears quickly.

"Sure."

Gretchen squealed with joy and shot back up to the surface, upon which Ferb gave off a little half smile and produced a notebook from his pocket. He flicked open the page and ticked Gretchen off of his list. After all, he was hardly going to go with _one _girl.

Candace peered out from her newly constructed "sniper's" nest in the tree, eyes scanning the area. She had a problem. Of course, being Candace, this was a relatively minor problem, stretched into a huge one. She _could_ go out and purchase a new dress for tonight's dance, but then, what if today was the day she finally busted her brothers? Why, just last week Mom had almost seen the giant mechanical dog – surely victory was approaching?

"This time they are so…"

Candace looked down to see she had leaned forward out of the tree, and was apparently suspended in mid air. Of course, as soon as she noticed this, she plummeted earthbound with a cry of 'Oh darn', and crashed in front of a surprised Phineas and Isabella. Phineas quickly recovered his composure, helping his sister to her feet.

"Wow. Good thing we didn't dig near the tree."

Candace brushed dirt off of her bruised knees and waved a closed fist at her brother.

"Phineas! When mom sees this, you are…" The conflicted parts of her personality clashed again, and she suddenly enquired, "What time does the dance start?"

"Seven," Isabella smiled cheerfully.

Candace squawked loudly and bolted indoors, shrieking about needing 'time to prepare'. There was a pause.

"She does know it's only two o'clock, right?" Phineas asked, looking at his friend.

"Umm… do you have a partner, Phineas?" Isabella blurted out, covering her mouth almost immediately after.

The briefest of blushes raced across Phineas' face, and he stammered for a moment.

"N-no. Why do you ask?"

Isabella's courage failed, and she merely mumbled 'no reason'.

Phineas smiled contentedly and walked on, assuming the downhearted Isabella was still beside him.

"It's a perfect day for a dance really. I can't think of anything that could possibly go wrong."

Outside of Danville, various vans sped towards the city centre, the roaring of their engines growing ever louder.

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**Thanks for reading. Why Ironside? I dunno, Scanners was on tv and the name kinda stuck. Bye for now, will update when I can.**


	2. The Coup

**Hey hey kids! Thanks to everyone who read, and those who advised on the rating. The story is now T, partly because of that, and because this chapter is brutal. Really brutal. Things get worse before they get better, as they say. Just a warning.**

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_Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated__! …after hours…_

Doctor Heinz Doofenshmirtz yawned lazily and stretched out his feet, sliding them into expertly placed slippers as he sank into his sofa. It had been a long day, but recently he had found an almost child-like joy in movie marathons. The interior of DE Inc had been plastered with anything remotely soundproof, and the only light in the entire building was the one emanating from Heinz's television. The doctor sighed happily, and savoured the moment as he prepared to press play…

Perry the Platypus crashed through the padded door with the sheer determination typical of those burdened by lack of sleep. Doofenshmirtz screeched and fell backwards from the sofa.

"Perry the Platypus!" The Doctor's eyes and pointed nose appeared from the back of the sofa, mired in confusion. "What are you even doing here?"

Perry held up a flyer advertising the 'Dance of the Summer', and held his fingers in his ear sockets as demonstration. His nemesis nodded understandingly.

"Oh… Vanessa's at that I think. I had to sound-proof the room, kids these days!" he glanced at the door in annoyance. "Oy… if you want to stay here you're going to have to repair my door."

Perry nodded politely and lifted the door back into the frame, producing a screwdriver from no-where in particular. Doofenshmirtz watched critically as the platypus fixed the door, well aware of the caustic doctor's eye. Eventually Heinz relented.

"Okay, that'll do, I need to get started." He crossed the room again to his sofa, catching the enquiring look he was receiving from the platypus. He returned a look that made it seem as if what he was doing was obvious to everyone.

"I'm watching Space Adventure One-through- Eleven. I was supposed to attend some town meeting that my brother's holding, but I simply couldn't be bothered. You're just in time, actually. The first one's about to start! Ahhh…. Twenty-nine hours of science-fiction-y goodness. And that's before we watch it with commentary." He paused, seeing that the platypus was still stationary. "What? I bet _your_ Saturday nights aren't spent hitting the town either."

Perry's eyes darted around the room. He could go home, but the dance was very loud, and he was sure he'd only get in Phineas' way – he was very stressed of late, and besides, that sheer amount of people was only going to grow throughout the night. He sighed and sat on the sofa, unenthusiastically awaiting the space epic.

"Tea?" said Doofenshmirtz.

The platypus sighed again. It was unlikely that he would get _any_ sleep tonight.

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Phineas moved swiftly among the children and teenagers to reach the front of the house. His mother and father were just about to step into the car when he ran up to them.

"Okay… I'll have them out by the agreed time, but you said you'll be back by then right?"

Linda rolled her eyes, something she had become very accustomed to doing.

"Of course, Phineas. Candace is looking after you anyway – you don't need us to look after you. Just go have fun, dear. You're beginning to sound like your sister."

"Bye, then," said Phineas, calming down somewhat. "Enjoy the town meeting."

"Oh, I very much doubt that," said Lawrence, to no-one in particular.

Linda edged into her car seat and started the engine.

"Goodbye Phineas. Just don't burn the house down or bury anything," she chuckled lightly. "Why don't you go dance with Isabella?"

With that, the Flynn-Fletcher car set off down the street towards the town hall. Phineas walked lightly back into the garden, where a large stage had been set up for any performers. He lightly touched a communicator in his ear.

"Ferb."

Ferb's low tones crackled through.

"I'm busy."

"I know, I know. You're still going to perform one, yeah?"

The noises that came through the headset told Phineas that Ferb was nodding his head.

"Alright!" said Phineas happily, realising his stress had been an over-reaction. "I have some requests for Summer Belongs to You, so if I find Isabella, I'll…"

Isabella appeared almost instantly at Phineas' side, breathless and panting.

"I'll… perform that with you," She said in between breaths. "That is, if you want."

"Of course I want you to sing with me. The song's not the same without you."

Isabella blushed, and some passing Fireside Girls snickered in the way young girls often do. Isabella mentally noted that all of those girls were apparently attending with Ferb.

Ferb's face was typically blank, but he was in his element, listening patiently as Gretchen and Adyson finished a long story about their brief visit to England. The girls were well aware of Ferb's distinctive womanising behaviour, but there was no misogyny in his actions – they enjoyed his company and allowed him to indulge in his own image. Tonight he was obsessively scanning the crowd for a tall goth girl, inwardly pining, unaware that an equally obsessive gaze was upon him.

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Thomas lay down in the bushes, carefully watching the party through cracks in the fence, occasionally shifting uncomfortably, much to the annoyance of his subordinates. The second-in-command, Bob, had taken a dislike to this odd field leader – he smelled badly and would giggle every so often, apparently unaware of it. Nevertheless, Bob had no choice but to obey Thomas – it was Ironside's will. So if Ironside commanded it, he may as well try to get along with the bald convict.

"Ladies man… ooh look at me… fabulous suit actually…" Thomas was muttering.

"Sir," whispered Bob helpfully. "Fabulous has a different meaning round here."

"I know what it means, you fat sycophant!"

Bob looked rather taken aback, but tried to be helpful one last time.

"Tea, sir?" He held out a cardboard cup, smiling contentedly.

Thomas' hand shot out to grab the cup, without a hint of thanks. He began muttering into the tea, continuing his rambling observations on Ferb's choice of clothes. They had been ordered to await Ironside's signal – he was busy at town hall. The unit was at least thirty-strong, spread out in a perimeter surrounding the garden, all disguised in the undergrowth. They had been waiting for this type of scenario for years, and they could wait a little longer. None of the Smile Away trainees spoke for a time, until Bob attempted to return to Thomas' 'good' side:

"Sir, you've been lying in platypus dung for some time now."

A vein in Thomas' temple throbbed dangerously but he said nothing.

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Lawrence and Linda found some seats with a degree of difficulty – the hall was packed with adults, and they wouldn't have thought it unlikely if they were told all the adults in Danville were present. They managed to squeeze into two chairs between two very fat men, Lawrence rather unfortunately pressed into one sweaty armpit. Linda shot him a sympathetic smile, and they both knew that talking was nearly impossible over the general chatter of the audience.

The noise began to quell however, as Roger Doofenshmirtz took to the podium, uncharacteristically nervous, tugging at his tie as if it were strangling him. When he spoke, everyone began to murmur with the dawning realisation that something was terribly wrong.

"My… f-fellow parents… aunts… uncles, grandparents…" Roger's voice was weak, and large bruises were visible on his face, with a thin red line running across his neck. He stopped suddenly, as he saw movement at the back of the room.

Suddenly clamps shot out of the chairs, trapping and holding the adults in place. Panicked yelling and screaming began, as Roger whimpered inaudibly.

"I'm so sorry."

"Very nicely put, mayor," Ironside boomed from the back of the hall. There was a general hush as the scared adults craned their necks to look at their captor. The drill sergeant swept forward, closely followed by a scientist-type and several armed figures dressed in riot armour. The scientist was filming Ironside on a hand-held camera, while occasionally turning it to capture images of the distressed crowd. Ironside approached the podium, unceremoniously barging Roger out of the way and to the ground. The adults watched in terror as the military figure began.

"Do not look so surprised," Ironside snarled, looking down at his captive audience. "You need only look outside to see that this was inevitable. You disgust me. As parents it was your duty to install order, and discipline into your spawn. Yet you ingrates failed even that simple task. INCOMPETENCE!" The sudden bark caused everyone except the armed guards to flinch. "Incompetence has brought you to this. This is a stand against ineptitude. After this, the entire world shall see the true way of thinking. No longer shall children run unchecked, unchallenged. No longer shall they manipulate weak parents. But most importantly, no longer shall they be endangered. Throughout all of this, I want you to remember: this is for your own good." He glanced at his loyal followers. "What can we teach these scum?"

The guards removed their helmets in unison to reveal themselves as young children to the shocked audience. Lifting their rifles, they chorused in a low, menacing tone:

"Structure, order and discipline today, so tomorrow, it's Smile Away."

Ironside smiled with satisfaction, and turned to the scientist.

"Doctor Ludovico, you may begin construction."

The scientist bowed and scurried from the room, snapping the camera shut as he did so. Ironside spoke softly into a communicator attached to his sleeve.

"Rains, you are clear to engage."

* * *

Candace was interrupted from her favourite pastime of staring into Jeremy's eyes by a tugging at her dress. She glanced down in annoyance to see Isabella, looking decidedly unhappy.

"What is it?"

"I can't get Phineas to notice me!" Isabella said in such a way that Candace immediately felt the desire to give her a comforting hug. The kid's face was heartbreaking.

"Okay, okay…" Candace said slowly. She thought of a reply that would both satisfy the girl and ensure that she wasn't bothered again. "Why don't you just confess everything? That way you'll never have to worry about this sort of thing again!"

"You think?" Isabella said, eyes watering slightly, but a smile beginning to form.

No, said several voices in Candace's head, but outwardly she said:

"Of course, Isabella. Run along now." At the younger girl's departure, Candace felt a gnawing concern over whether she had made the situation better or worse. She was hardly a relationship expert, but it was best not to dwell – this was one of the few times she could describe herself as truly happy.

"Phineas!" Isabella called to the boy, who was watching Ferb take to the stage to complete his mandatory performance.

"Yeah?" Phineas said, drawing his eyes from the stage. "Something wrong?"

Isabella's voice was a mixture of uncertainty and excitement. On stage, Ferb approached the microphone, and began to open his mouth to sing.

"There's something I have to tell you!" she squeaked rather hysterically.

"Okay…" Phineas said, unsure of where this situation was headed.

"Phineas, I l…"

The rest of Isabella's sentence was cut off by a loud shotgun blast that immediately silenced the party and scattered birds across the skies. Somewhere, a girl shrieked, but the garden was completely hushed. Everyone turned to see the perpetrator, a large obese child who was wielding the weapon in one hand. The recoil should have at least dislocated his arm. Perhaps it did. But Bob showed no reaction whatsoever.

Through the microphone, Ferb's low moan was heard.

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes!" Thomas cried, emerging from behind his armed minions, wielding a shovel like a staff, his trench coat waving gently in the breeze. "Miss me?"

A low murmur started across the crowd, as some recognised the invader, others recalling the story of a crazed child that had been in the newspaper weeks ago. Candace, already boiling with anger, made to move, but Bob pointed the shotgun at her.

"Please," said Bob. "Remain calm. Chances of escaping a bullet are eight to one. Not advisable to interfere."

Thomas looked around, realising that, dangers or not, sooner or later one of the crowd would do something stupid. He suddenly turned to his men and barked a short order, at which the unit fired their tranquiliser darts into the partygoers, downing them all save for Phineas, Ferb and Isabella.

"Keep the real guns trained on the girl and Ferb," Thomas murmured to his men, and approached Phineas and Isabella almost casually. "So, how are my favourite backwards couple today?"

Phineas, turning white, struggled to speak.

"I- I… did…" He searched for something to say. "New haircut?"

Thomas' eyes bulged and he sensitively touched his shiny head, taking extreme offence. Phineas seemed to realise the mistake he had made, and fell into silence. Isabella stepped forward instead.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was heavy with loathing. Rains began circling the pair, chortling to himself.

"I'm here for you lot, obviously." He leaned in towards Isabella from behind, his horrible breath brushing against her ear. "But just between you and me… You and Phineas aren't coming with us. Aheheh."

Thomas swung the shovel with sudden fury, catching Phineas on the back of the head, which dropped him to the ground immediately. Isabella dived to catch her stunned friend in her arms, enraged eyes glaring up at their tormentor. Thomas then threw the shovel to Bob, who caught it easily.

"Dig a pit."

As Bob leapt to work, Thomas signalled some of his subordinates to bring an object forward. It was a long, rotten coffin, carried on their shoulders, and dropped to the ground. Ferb's sob was heard around the garden. Thomas looked up in delight.

"Can you guess what I'm doing Silent Bob? Aheheh."

"Please," Ferb appealed tearfully.

Thomas looked at the now crying Isabella, who was feebly attempting to revive the unconscious Phineas. She seemed oblivious to his presence.

"No can do. Working on a time limit, Ferb old boy. I need to have all of these kids back at base in an hour – personal revenge has to be carried out quickly. So no time for pleas. Didn't I say I'm the only family you need?"

The psychopath knelt down besides Isabella, and brushed some hair from her face.

"This broken nose isn't so funny now, is it? Where are your songs and shippings and freedoms now, Xion? … or whatever your name is… aheh… don't cry now. You're joining him."

Isabella's murderous stare caused Thomas to take a step backwards, and he nervously muttered,

"Hurry up with the digging, damn it, or loaded guns or not, she's going nuts."

"Done, sir!" Bob exclaimed cheerfully, clambering out of the freshly dug pit. "Looks like new earth, like there was recently a huge hole there, so it was easy."

Thomas waved his hand dismissively and gestured to the coffin. Phineas' limp body was suddenly wrenched from Isabella's grasp, and casually tossed into the coffin that was now lying at the bottom of the open 'grave'. He landed in the coffin with a loud crash. Isabella's breathing became heavier, her eyes darkening. She leapt at the giggling sadist, who sidestepped quickly, leaving her to be seized by the obese henchman. Bob looked at her with some sort of pity.

"I'm sorry about this," he whispered. "It's not part of the plan, but orders are orders."

"Not your type, Bob!" called Thomas. "You'd probably want someone around your size – maybe an elephant or a double-decker bus!"

Bob blinked away what may have been a tear and pushed Isabella into the pit. She tumbled down and landed painfully on top of Phineas inside the coffin. She stifled a sob and attempted to make sure Phineas wasn't injured any further. His head was badly bruised, but there didn't seem to be any blood.

Thomas' face appeared over the rim of the earth.

"I love it when two people find one another," he sighed. "NAIL THEM IN!"

Isabella turned to resist, but the lid came down swiftly, forcing her into the dark and slamming closed decisively. She scrambled desperately to push it back, but the unit held it still, impervious to her protest. The last thing she heard was an English voice calling down,

"Dos vedanya, Isa your grace, farewell! See that Ferb - Russian."

The minions decisively brought the nails home, sealing the coffin against Isabella's cries of anger, and once they were done, climbed the earth to the surface. Bob began to shovel the earth back down into the shallow grave, his face betraying no emotion.

Thomas excitedly leapt onto the stage, hugging the crying Ferb joyfully.

"Smart thing you did there, Ferb," Thomas chuckled. "If you'd moved, I would have had you shot anyway. So, how you been?"

Ferb's traumatised gaze remained on the filled in hole that contained his best friends, and the usually stoic boy sank to his knees, all hope gone from his face. Thomas watched with interest.

"Hmm. You look dead inside. Did I bweak your widdle mind? Aheheh. Come on now, if you're good, I'll buy you a new one!"

The syringe of tranquiliser jammed into Ferb's neck, rendering him unconscious almost immediately. Thomas performed a quick thief's search on Ferb's suit, pausing when he saw the watch. A strange look came over his face as he drew back his own sleeve to reveal the watch's twin. The unit began to carry the partygoers towards a van waiting down the street, completely unconcerned about the horrors they had just witnessed. Bob interrupted his leader, slinging Ferb over his shoulder, but Thomas stopped him, pointing at the Flynn-Fletcher house.

"Aheheh, I know Ironside's waiting, but I need you to burn that house."

"Burn it, sir?"

"Until it smoulders."

The last of the Rains family began to drag his former friend towards the van, softly talking to the unconscious boy. He pulled Ferb up into the van, and slammed the doors shut, taking one last look at the house.

"It's a perfect day, Silent Bob! Heh. Here we go gathering nuts in May, nuts in May, nuts in May…"

As the van made its way to the new headquarters, the Flynn-Fletcher house caught fire, lighting up the night, a message for no-one to see, but a message nonetheless. Phineas and Ferb had fallen.

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**Thanks for reading! This is definitely the darkest thing I've ever written. Thomas is long beyond redemption - he's girlishly prancing over the moral event horizon.**


	3. Meanwhile, at the Legion of Doom

**Hello again, and thanks for reading! This chapter is light on the main characters and heavy on the villains (hence the chapter name). I was going to feature Phineas and Isabella, but I wouldn't want to lift their Nightmare Fuel so quickly. (Alternatively, for some real Nightmare Fuel, just read the Phineas and Ferb Fanon Wiki.) **

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"Tea?"

The cup slid across the steel tables, brown liquid splashing onto the silver surface as the cup wobbled along. Ferb did not react, continuing to stare through Thomas and into the wall. Thomas looked at him strangely. It was if he weren't even in the room. They were in the interrogation room of the police headquarters, the screams of the other children in the holding cells muffled by the steel doors and brick walls.

"Aheheh."

Thomas was dressed in Ferb's tuxedo, running his hands along the smooth white material, pleased that there was no trace of platypus dung in this outfit. Ferb had been forced into Thomas' rotting jumpsuit and trench coat, which were stained a suspicious brown colour.

"Does it seem weird I got my men to undress you while you were out?"

Still, the stare. Thomas frowned.

"Look, Silent Bob, I know you don't talk much but you could at least acknowledge me."

Ferb raised his hands slightly, demonstrating that they were tied to the chair. His previously warm brown eyes were dulled, and they bored into Thomas' own black pools. Thomas felt strangely frightened.

"I- I'd like to untie you… I'm under orders not to. To be honest, when Ironside discovers Jason Todd's missing, he's gonna go ballistic. Sorry, Phineas, not Jason Todd."

There was a long silence as Thomas fidgeted with his new suit, feeling the bright light on his bald head. He could tell his sweat was visible – his head was probably shining horribly. He hated being ignored – it reminded him of his father, and the long periods spent by himself back in England, before he had made a friend. In the silence, he listened to the simultaneous ticking of their watches, and his face softened, black eyes showing an unidentifiable emotion.

"You… you kept yours, I see…" Thomas rolled his sleeve back, revealing the beautiful watch, somehow in pristine condition despite its owner's less than adequate hygiene. A genuine laugh came from Thomas, and he smiled. "Remember when we got these? Our dads took us into London… Ferb?"

His former friend looked away with callous indifference, and Thomas felt a pain unlike any other – and given his time in Smile Away, experiencing a new type of pain was rare indeed. A growl formed in his throat.

"PAY ATTENTION TO ME!" Thomas brought his fist down painfully on the steel table, nearly breaking the bones in his hand as he did so. He rose angrily, a long absent greenish tinge returning to his skin. He raised a hand, in preparation to strike Ferb, when a squawk from his radio interrupted.

"Boss?" Bob's voice echoed around the room. "You're needed at… Alice, I think we're calling it now."

Thomas turned swiftly on his heel and headed for the door. He turned his head to glance at Ferb. His eyes had returned to their soulless appearance.

"If you aren't better next time, I'm bringing a buzz saw. Aheheh."

As the steel door slammed shut, Ferb broke his silence, quietly sobbing for his dead brother and friend.

* * *

"Tea, sir?" Bob asked happily, waiting for Thomas at the door to the police station. He was answered with a very polite phrase universally renowned for its exceptional clarity – 'piss off'.

Not one to have his spirits dampened, the fat child fell into step with his fabulously dressed leader, tossing away the tea he had slaved so hard to make.

"Is it ready?" Thomas grunted, turning down a side street, ready to cut into the town square. His minion nodded.

"We're calling it Alice!" he chirped.

"What a stupid name. I suppose it was your idea?"

"Umm… yes, sir. It just... looked like an Alice, I suppose."

"You should have named it after that little girl you buried earlier. That would have been funny at least."

Bob sniffed at the memory.

"Sir… that girl… It hurt, boss."

Thomas chuckled sadistically.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have done it then, eh?"

They emerged from the gloom of the street into the cool, dark hours of the morning. In the centre of the square, a huge sheet of canvas was draped over a construction some fifty feet in height, and the size of the entire square in width. Bob whistled.

"Thar she blows, boss."

"That's Alice?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, whip off that canvas. I want to see my baby!"

* * *

Ironside sat in the mayor's office, rubbing his temples out of habit. It was not behaviour expected from a commanding officer, but the noise from the children often got to him. The migraines were torture. The door creaked open, and Doctor Ludovico peered in, glasses sliding down his nose.

"Enter." Ironside commanded.

Ludovico did, nervously stepping into the light, sweat pouring down his face. The man was pushing eighty, Ironside knew, but he was the best at what he did. Ludovico permanently carried the air of someone who had been bullied since childhood, jumping at the slightest noises and prone to cowering. Perhaps that was why he hated children. Ironside stared at the doctor, impatiently waiting for him to speak.

"C-construction is complete, sir," Ludovico said quietly. "That bald child is awaiting your orders."

Ironside pulled back the blinds to observe the completed construction, which dominated the square outside town hall. The machine was towering and Victorian in design, visible gears clanging together, chains running at some speed to power a production line, black smoke rising from every gap, cementing the monstrosity's presence. Grinding noises reached his ears as his brainwashed students took their place on the machine, pulling at various levers. At the end of the production line, a door into the machine hissed open, revealing a dark workshop within. Fires burned violently as the trees of Danville were cut down and incinerated to fuel the industrial creature. Ironside smiled.

"You had best get down there. Make sure the camera is working. When Rains is done with the presentation, tell him to see me."

Ludovico scuttled away, leaving a dark pool of sweat on the carpet that made Ironside grimace.

* * *

"Home again, home again, jiggety-jig!"

Cells doors grated against the floor as they were drawn back, and the captive children groggily raised their eyes as armoured captors dragged them to their feet.

"Chain them together!" called an English voice. "But make sure you chain them so it always hurts, no matter how long they endure it!"

The faceless guards obeyed wordlessly, roughly forcing the children into lines, and harshly forcing black chains onto legs, forcing the children to move as one. A fireside girl began to cry, distracting Bob from applying the link. He looked over his shoulder to see the disturbance, absent-mindedly locking the chain and failing to notice that he had not clamped it around a certain neurotic teenager's ankle. Candace stayed uncharacteristically quiet, pretending to be as subdued as the others.

It transpired that Thomas had caused the commotion – he had stolen Gretchen's glasses, and when the girl protested, he had ordered her beaten. The psychopath drifted through the chained masses, loving the hate-filled glares directed his way. He motioned towards the exit, and the children were marched from the police station, wailing and sobbing. A twitching old man appeared behind him, dabbing at his brow with a handkerchief.

"That wasn't necessary Thomas," Ludovico complained. "We do have a schedule."

"Aheheh. I do hate Fireside girls, though. What's your problem, they remind you of the _Bund Deutscher Mädel_, or something?"

Ludovico merely sniffed. It was better to ignore the brat.

"Ironside wants to see you when you're done."

Thomas briefly turned white, thoughts turning back to a coffin in a garden.

"I- eh… Just shut up and work the camera, old man."

Exiting out into the square, Ludovico felt a tear of pride run down his cheek as he looked up at his marvellous creation – a cavernous maw, ready to purge the children of all their unpleasant noise and habits. With weak hands, he picked a large camera from the ground where he had left it. The camera was connected to a screen in the town hall, where the adults were being forced to watch. The children were forced onto the stationary production line as Thomas took his place in front of the camera, fixing his bowtie for the audience. No-one noticed a red haired girl slink out of the line and into an alleyway, scurrying away as fast as she could.

"Hey parents!" Thomas called, peering down the camera lens. "Ready to see your whiny little brats become outstanding citizens like me? It's okay! Aheheh. No longer will you have to wonder about having a brain-dead kid – we're gonna give you one!" He glanced up at the control room of the machine, or 'Alice'. "Okay Bob, let's fire this baby up!"

At the pull of a lever the production line cranked into life, moving the prisoners along a conveyor belt of terror. Horrific images of violence and 'creative acts gone wrong' flashed on screens in front of the subjects, their eyes forced open by mechanical arms, and water sprayed towards them from all angles, torturing and bruising them. Above the sound of children screaming however, was the sound of Thomas performing for the camera – music was emanating from no-where in particular, and Thomas began his nightmarish tour of the machine, all for his audiences' benefit.

"_Scrub! Scrub! (Scrub!) Gonna scour it clean!  
Just come on in to my brand new machine!  
Whip! Whip! (Whip!) Gonna flay off the skin!  
Come on now, don't you trust my grin! _

_When your kid's behavior has gone downhill,  
We'll force a smile right back on his grill.  
You'll think him improved, you know you will!  
At Ironside's compulsory Brain Wash! _

_When his smile has lost its sheen,  
And his skin has turned pale green,  
He'll wear a uniform most pristine,  
The most obedient kid on the scene! (On the scene!) _

_Smack! Smack! (Smack!) Beat it out of his head!  
Of course some of the subjects turn out dead!  
Scour! Scour! (Scour!) Take out whatever we can!  
The failed ones I stuff in the back of the van! _

_If it hasn't sunk in yet,  
This is how a child should be,  
Take it from me, I'm on the TV!  
And keep in mind, we're doing all this for free!  
At Ironside's compulsory Brain Wash! Brain Wash! (At Ironside's compulsory Brain Wash!) _Aheheh."

The children continued on their terrifying transformation as Thomas wrapped up his work for the day, lazily tossing the camera aside and heading towards town hall. The screaming thundered around him like wondrous applause.

* * *

Thomas' joy was short-lived, however. Almost as soon as he entered the mayor's office he was backhanded across the room, cracking his head painfully on the wall. Ironside advanced, towering above his victim. When the drill sergeant spoke, his voice was dangerously low.

"I did some checking, Thomas. The Flynn boy is absent. Where is he?"

"Flynn's a fairly common name. Scottish actually, if-!"

A swift kick to the ribs silenced the sociopath, and Ironside knelt down beside him, almost whispering.

"You are becoming a liability, Thomas. I promised you revenge if it were not in detriment to the plan. Phineas is part of the plan. WHERE IS HE?"

The shout was punctuated by a grab at the scarred boy's throat. Thomas struggled to squawk out a few words.

"I'll go get him."

"See that you do." Ironside snarled, letting go and moving back towards his desk. Thomas picked himself up, ready to leave. "One more thing." Ironside continued. "Until you return, WITH the Flynn boy, you are denied access to the Fletcher boy."

"WHAT!" Thomas shrieked, eyes bulging. "You… you can't do that! You can't just cut me off from the only person I..."

"At least Bob will prove a competent commander in your absence. Now..."

Ironside whistled softly, and a huge Doberman padded into the room, hackles raised, drool gathering around its fangs. It seemed to grin at the sight of the nervous child, teeth bared maliciously. Ironside smiled at Thomas' expression.

"Counting to three. One…"

Thomas began to speak, but was cut off again.

"Two…"

Rains ran from the room as fast as his legs would carry him, hysterically dashing through doors and furniture, desperate to escape. Ironside listened to the rapidly distant yelling, and addressed the dog.

"Sorry, Caesar. No dinner for now." The drill sergeant suddenly thought of something that would cheer him up, and quickly marched from the room, leaving the dog to silently pad away.

* * *

The steel door barged open, and Ferb snatched a quick glance at the captor. Ironside stood blocking the doorway, a thin smile on his lips. He was carrying two human-sized objects, wrapped in a sheet. He leaned them against the wall and sat down opposite Ferb.

"You don't talk much, so I'll be brief." Ironside grinned. "I have special plans for you and your brother, which is why you're currently in here, and not outside. Here's a little question for you: what is the symbol of Christianity?"

Ferb resumed his dead stare, a defiant gesture in the face of his enemy. Ironside did not care, and answered himself.

"A cross," He said. "The cross was once a symbol of torture and crime, but it was changed into one of peace and love. Symbols can be warped for other purposes. Take you, for example. I know you're not the brains, you're just the Thomas to your brother's command. But don't worry. Phineas will be here shortly. To this city, perhaps even this country, you symbolize free will, creativity and enthusiasm. You give the plebeians hope for themselves. So… I'm going to warp that symbol."

Ironside reached over and pulled the sheet from the objects resting against the wall. Ferb's demeanor was lost as he uttered his first words in several hours.

"My God."

"Yes," chuckled Ironside, looking at the steel, robotic, human-shaped containers. They were perfectly fitted to the distinctive shapes of Phineas and Ferb, grey, gleaming sarcophaguses. Ironside looked proudly upon his inventions.

"Behold," he said quietly. "The Child Containment Capsules. Or, to put it in a lighter way, People Jars."

The staff sergeant through back his head and laughed at the child in front of him, the booming cackle bouncing around the walls of the interrogation room.

"They're your future."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! You'll notice that 'Ironside's Compulsory Brainwash' is a rehash of the 'Phintastic Ferbulous Car Wash' - I figured a dark spin on a recognisable tune would be more memorable than an original one. Don't take all the lyrics seriously though, Thomas is just trying to terrify the parents. 'Alice' the machine is intended to evoke the corrupted Isengard - hence the burning of trees. Something just occurred to me - although Thomas and Ironside are clearly horrible, unrepentant monsters, Ludovico is probably the worst. I mean, he actually designed all the stuff. Anyway, see you next time!**


	4. Candace Flynn vs the World

Hello there children! Thanks for sticking with me so far. This chapter features the main characters a lot more, so I hope you enjoy.

* * *

"Phineas!"

She scrambled in the dark, hands clawing at rotten wood, eyelids firmly shut to the trails of dirt dripping through. Phineas lay beside her, silent and unmoving. Isabella grabbed at what she presumed was his tuxedo and shook him as much as she could in such an enclosed space. There was no response.

"Phineas!" she yelled again, feeling her eyes well up. "Don't leave! PHINEAS! …I don't want to die… Do something! Don't just lie there and…"

She was startled when Phineas suddenly lurched his head forward, coughing out the blood and dirt that were congealing in his throat. After clearing, he glanced around and realised where he was.

"No…" came the whisper. "Not now, I…"

He began frantically scratching at the lid of the coffin, nails scraping the tops of his fingers. His eyes rolled madly, his hyperventilation the only sound Isabella could hear. Isabella seized his hands before he could do any real damage to them, and tried to be as reassuring as one can after being buried alive.

"Phineas, please!" she cried. "I need you to think! There has to be a way out of here…"

At Isabella's touch Phineas calmed, and his voice came back to him.

"It's dark… I can't see anything to…" The bruising on the back of his head hammered a dull pain into his head, distorting any coherent thought. "What time is it…" he mumbled.

"Time?" Isabella shrieked. "You want to know…" A thought began to circulate.

"Time!" she called excitedly. "Phineas! You still have your watch!"

Phineas took a moment to process this information, but slowly, surely, a light entered his eyes. He raised his left hand, and Isabella gripped it tightly. His voice contained some of the enthusiasm it had sorely missed the past day. The heavily modified watch hummed slightly in the dark, a low blue glue beginning to light Phineas' face. In the sudden light, Isabella noted that someone had taken the time to write 'DON'T PANIC!' on the coffin lid - in friendly red lettering, of course.

"Isabella, you're the greatest friend I could ever have. If we don't…"

"JUST PRESS THE BUTTON!"

There was a flash of light, and the coffin was empty, left to rot where no-one would find it. Across the street, there was a sudden spark, followed by a loud splash. Isabella opened her eyes to swirling water, the chlorine providing a shock to her senses. Without a second thought she swam upwards, still holding Phineas' wrist tightly. She gasped at the air as she shot out of the water, and with the last of her strength, pulled her crush up with her onto the dry tiles. The two lay on the ground for some time, spluttering water and spoiling themselves with fresh air. After a while, Phineas began to laugh, a low chuckle borne of sheer relief. Isabella looked at him, concerned, but his laughing was infectious. She couldn't help but follow suit, their laughter echoing through the night as they rolled onto their backs to stare at the sky, happy to be alive.

"Thank goodness," Phineas said slowly, sitting up. "If you hadn't woken me up… Thank you."

Isabella smiled gratefully, but her mind was elsewhere.

"We need to find out what's going on," she said, any trace of humour fading from her face.

Phineas shakily rose to his feet, offering a hand to help Isabella up. She lightly took it and hopped gently onto her feet. Phineas was impressed, but said nothing.

"Come on, let's go see what happened," he said, beginning to walk out of the garden. He suddenly stopped, a strange look on his face.

"Phineas?" Isabella asked worriedly, walking towards him. "What's wrong?"

"I- I…" Phineas began, but merely stuttered to a stop.

Isabella rounded the corner and saw it: the Flynn-Fletcher house was horribly blackened with soot, cracked walls leading to blown out windows, displaying the interior of a ruined home to the entire street. The fire had evidently gone out some time ago, and Phineas could see straight through into his room, gazing tearfully at incinerated childhood memories. He stood silently until Isabella slid a comforting hand into his.

"Come on," she said. "We need to find out what's going on. I know a place."

* * *

Ironside leaned on the balcony, watching the giant machine, or 'Alice' as idiots were calling it, violently continue its purpose. The screams of children met his ears, and the smell of burned hair reached his nostrils, but they did nothing for him anymore. Dedicating his life to a cause had sapped out all of the simple pleasures. His short-wave radio beeped slightly, and he raised it.

"Speak."

Ludovico's voice came through, and Ironside groaned inwardly.

"Progress is slow, Sergeant. The children are most… resistant. We had to restrain a Master Van Stomm after we tried to reach his comrade Rai. Some of the boys sustained injuries. I must protest about this Serum 114 – it is too weak. Can we not return to the use of monocane?"

"No," Ironside snapped. "It may make them obedient, but it leaves some sort of free will- we'll just end up with clones of Rains. 114 will make them docile eventually. These things take time."

"We don't have much time! How long before the Americans come to investigate? Danville has been dark now for eight hours – someone is going to notice!"

"Quiet, doctor. If it wasn't for me you'd still be scampering around South America like a rodent. Military intervention is inevitable – it is essential, actually, if this is to be an example to the world. We have enough time – the OWCA have been buried in their little underground base, the police are restrained – no-one is able to do anything right now."

"Can I at least experiment? It has been a long time since I was allowed reign over live subjects. I want to put these Fireside Girls through some tests."

"NO!" Ironside suddenly barked. "You are supposed to be a professional! Act like one, or I'll make sure everyone finds out about your… _colourful _past."

The silence that followed told Ironside that the ancient 'scientist' had returned to work. He obviously didn't understand, obviously. This has always been about symbolism, thought Ironside. A show of force, a demonstration of power, to kick-start a wave of new thinking, or rather, lack of thinking across the globe. The military would eventually arrive to end it, but that would make martyrs of them all. Ironside suddenly snorted with laughter as he glanced at the helicopter on the landing pad next to the mayor's office. Well, it would make martyrs of _most_ of them. A worldwide cult needs a leader, after all.

* * *

Bob whistled happily as he made his way towards Alice. He had been running various errands after being retired from control-room duty. Ludovico had been alarmed at his handling of the machine and had promptly sent him away. Bob was heading back now for the first time, hoping someone would give him something to do. He crossed into an alleyway for a shortcut, and was immediately struck to the ground, where something heavy landed on top of him.

"Start talking!" cried whatever was forcing him to the concrete.

"About what?" Bob chirped, apparently unfazed.

The force on him loosened, as the figure reacted with confusion.

"I don't know… I guess I was hoping you'd tell me _something_ …"

Bob thought for a moment.

"Well my name is Bob, I'm from Toronto, I can't remember how old I am or who my parents are…"

"I mean about the current situation!" hissed the figure. There was a silence as the figure noticed a sheet of paper taped to Bob's back. It read it aloud. "I'm a massive… does this say banker?"

"I think it's a 'w', actually," said Bob. "Mr Rains made me wear it."

"Gee, he sounds like a great boss."

"Not really. He always seems kind of sad, though. It helps to think of him as mixed up rather than cruel."

"Okay, getting off subject… Where are my brothers?"

"Specifics?"

The figure paused.

"You… you're just going to help me? Without any resistance?"

"Why not? I've had no orders otherwise."

The weight was suddenly lifted from Bob and he sat up to look at the girl crouched before him. He recognised her as the girl he had warned at the party.

Candace Flynn was looking worse for wear. She had been hiding in alleyways for nearly two hours now, eyes heavy due to lack of sleep and cuts and bruises forming on her knees and elbows. She was running on sheer willpower.

"My brothers. Phineas and Ferb. My parents. Where are they all?"

Bob scratched his head thoughtfully.

"All adults are under guard at town hall… Ferb has been… contained, over at the police station," Bob suddenly winced as he remembered. "Phineas… the boy, and the girl… they're dead. I- my condolences."

Candace let out a strange whine, which carried into her voice when she spoke.

"But… Phineas?" she asked, eyes watering, the resistance fading away.

Bob placed a huge hand on her shoulder. Candace shrugged it away and got to her feet. She left the alleyway, neglecting to even check for danger. The kindly fat child remained sat in the alley, tearfully watching her go. Candace wiped something from her eye, her breathing becoming more erratic. A familiar sound alerted her to a familiar presence.

"Calm yourself, Kevin," droned the zebra, lazily drifting beside her. "There will be time for grieving later – you've missed the important things the fat boy said."

"What does it matter?" Candace muttered, trying to keep the raw sadness from her voice.

"Listen, Kevin. The rotund gentleman said something important – he helped you because he was not ordered to do otherwise."

"So?" Candace asked, entering the shelter of an abandoned shop.

"The leaders of this group are extremists Kevin. It wouldn't surprise me if the children have been conditioned to obey any figure in authority. That's why all of the adults were restrained in the one place."

An idea began to form in Candace's head, but she pushed it aside as she sank to the ground.

"It doesn't matter. What's the point – Phineas is dead."

"Kevin," said the zebra, lowering itself down to look its ward in the eye. "Are you going to let everything he stood for die with him?"

Candace swallowed her grief and said slowly,

"No. No I'm not."

She leapt to her feet.

"You're right! This aggression will not stand!"

"That's right Kevin!"

"Phineas wouldn't stand for this, and neither will I!"

The zebra smiled.

"So what are you going to do about it, Kevin?"

Candace shot it a determined look.

"Fight back."

* * *

The mechanical voice presented its question politely.

"Would you kindly say the password, and then perform the secret knock?"

"Cupcake," Isabella replied, expertly rapping her fingers on the door.

"Enter."

The door to the Fireside Girl clubhouse swung open, and Phineas whistled in appreciation. The room immediately lit itself, revealing, among other things, a large array of computer monitors, each displaying the live recordings of strategically placed cameras. The fire crackled into life, and some chairs were raised from the ground, inviting the two visitors.

"Why have I never been here before?" marvelled Phineas, gazing at the numerous trophies and certificates adorning the walls.

"Technically, you're not allowed to be here," Isabella said sheepishly.

Phineas crossed to look at the surveillance network.

"You must have every place in Danville covered here!" He purposefully avoided looking at the one that showed the remains of his house.

"Exactly," said Isabella, pulling the chairs towards the monitors.

"You amaze me sometimes, you know?"

Isabella giggled quietly.

"I don't know actually. Let me see your head by the way."

Phineas continued to watch the numerous cameras as Isabella lifted his hair on the back of his head, inspecting a vicious looking bruise. Phineas noticed that the screens labelled 'Downtown' had gone dark.

"Isabella?"

"Hm?" The girl's head peered around to look at Phineas' discovery. "Oh, no. Wait… Those cameras are still active… something is blocking out the light…"

Phineas moved closer, accidentally bumping Isabella's hand against his head wound as he did so.

"Ow!"

"Sorry – it's pretty bad. Tell me if you feel drowsy, okay?"

"No, it was my fault…" Phineas glanced down at the watch that had saved their lives. It had stopped, the strange light gone from its display. "I think out trip to your pool broke my watch. Looks like we'll have to get around the old fashioned way."

Isabella looked concerned as she examined the various phones around the clubhouse, noticing red lights emanating from all but one.

"Phone lines are down," she stated, frowning. "Except the emergency line to the mayor's office."

Phineas turned his head to look at her.

"You think we should call it?"

"I…" Isabella began, only to be interrupted by a shrill alarm. She immediately jumped into her seat and stared at the monitors. "The Phineas sensors!"

"The Phineas sensors?" Phineas asked, looking confused.

Isabella's face reflected the screens as she muttered a vague explanation about Irving, and 'for your own safety'.

"What set them off?" Phineas asked, deciding to leave the matter at that.

Isabella's face darkened as she located the camera depicting the Flynn-Fletcher backyard. Pure hatred filled her eyes.

"I'll give you a clue," she said in a low voice. "He stinks, he's bald, and he's returned to the scene of the crime."

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and I don't think I say this often but I do appreciate your reviews - I always thank you for reading, but for some reason I've never properly thanked you for the reviews. I don't really have anything to say here today, so see you next time!**


	5. Not Enough Gun

**Hello, once again, and thanks for reading so far. A small note: Isabella may seem like a bit of a jerk sometimes, but it is entirely justified - I mean, I'd be angry at someone who buried me alive...**

* * *

"Stand up. Stand up!"

In the cold, clinical control room, Jeremy rose to his feet, groaning slightly. Ludovico smiled palely and wiped sweat from his brow. The boy had been the first to break under the treatment, and was being proudly displayed to Ironside, who remained impassive.

"Good," Ludovico said. "Now would you kindly… run."

Despite contortions in his face suggesting he wished to do otherwise, Jeremy immediately ran around the room until Ludovico signalled for him to stop. The doctor glanced at his employer. Ironside grunted.

"Well done – it works exactly the way I said it would. This is a waste of my time."

He turned to leave, ready to emerge out onto a corrupted Danville marred by screaming. Ludovico hurried after him, clutching a clipboard to his chest.

"Sir, I said they were most resistant! I'm sure we can break them even quicker now!"

Ironside continued down the stairs to the town square, intent on leaving 'Alice' behind him. He passed under the huge entrance to the machine, above which a huge motto was inscribed into the metal: _'__Floreat Iuventus'_. Something made him pause, and he raised his hand, causing Ludovico to halt. Bob came running, until he crashed into Ludovico at the sight of Ironside's command.

"What is it?" hissed Ludovico, paranoid, as ever, that there might be a death squad searching for him.

Ironside curled his lip, growling darkly.

"Where are the troops?"

Indeed, the town square seemed deserted – the sounds of screaming and indoctrination still rang out from Alice, yet the streets themselves were barren. There were definitely people there, however – Ironside could smell them.

"Come out. Now," he commanded, and sure enough, his minions began to appear from their hiding places, unable to disobey. With them was a red-haired girl, confidently striding ahead of them, wearing a grubby police officer's uniform.

"Name?" Ironside asked Ludovico, who hastily flicked through his notes to find a point of reference.

"Hi Candace!" Bob chirped. "That's my new friend," he explained to his commanding officer, which earned him a backhanded slap.

Candace stopped roughly twenty metres away, and pointed at Ironside.

"Don't take your sights off the big one!" she commanded.

The crowd of brainwashed recruits immediately trained their weapons on Ironside, who looked completely unfazed.

"You have my attention," he said calmly.

Candace's voice wavered slightly as she spoke, and Ironside noted that her legs were shaking badly. He inwardly cursed that he had sent his dogs off on a different task – he would have enjoyed setting them on the girl. Bob, being unarmed but unable to disobey, was now pointing his fingers at Ironside in a gun shape. Ironside didn't blame him. It was his own fault the soldiers were acting this way.

"Release them all. Now. Or- or they'll open fire." Candace twitched slightly, uneasy at her foe's apparent serenity. "Bob, get out of the way."

"No," said Ironside simply. "Hold your ground. Make good on your threat."

Candace froze. Bob stood shivering in place, tears beginning to run down his face.

"I- I…" Her head shook as she contemplated carrying out the orders. Eventually she realised she had no choice. "FIRE EVERYTHING!" she screamed, closing her eyes to the approaching carnage.

A chorus of gunfire broke out across the square, and Ludovico instantly dived for cover, with the dawning realisation that his trousers were turning suspiciously brown. As he franticly scrambled in the dirt, he saw Ironside remain completely still, seemingly unharmed by the gunfire. Fairly quickly, the clicking of triggers ceased as the recruits ran out of ammunition. The smoke cleared, and Candace realised with a sharp pang of terror, that Ironside was still standing. And smiling.

"The guns that don't fire tranquillisers only fire blanks," Ironside chuckled. "Unless fired directly in someone's face, they are quite harmless, I assure you."

Candace took a step backward, and then broke into a full sprint, bolting as fast as she could from the square, tears beginning to fall as she realised he failure. The recruits stood awaiting orders, and watched Candace go with little interest. Bob and Ludovico picked themselves up off the ground. Ironside groaned slightly.

"From now on," he barked to the troops. "All authority figures are to be ignored. I will be the only one giving orders. Accept no others!"

The minions nodded, and began to wander off in various directions. Ironside lifted Bob up by the collar. The drill sergeant looked as calm as always, but his voice was layered with pure fury.

"This Candace girl…" he growled. "I want her dead. Soon."

He dropped Bob to the ground and continued his path towards town hall, intent on going back to his new office. Ludovico quickly fell in step, fixing his spectacles back onto his nose.

"Why didn't you tell me those guns were useless?" Ludovico whined, hopping slightly on his cane in order to keep up. He angrily wiped _something_ from his trousers. "That fat child is a worse leader than that bald gunsel you used to use."

"Why should I tell you anything peripheral to your job? Anyway, better an overly friendly minion than an overly hostile one."

Ludovico's face twitched as Ironside continued.

"Danville… she refuses to be saved. She rejects the cure as if it were another disease. Perhaps… perhaps I was wrong. Prepare the containment capsules."

Ludovico hesitated.

"For… for all of the children? Not just for the Flynn-Fletchers?"

"You hear me. And… you have permission to continue your… experiments."

A smile cracked across the old Druselstein native's withered face. He signalled to a passing Smile Away pupil.

"You – boy! Dust off my black gloves. I've found a reason to believe again!"

* * *

"Up the close and down the stair, But and ben with Burke and Hare. Burke's the butcher; Hare's the thief, Knox the boy who buys the beef. Aheheh."

The shovel dug into the soft earth again, with considerably less enthusiasm than before. Thomas tried to hunch over, to keep some warmth against the oppressive cold of the early morning. It was roughly one o'clock, and he was unaware of how long a person could survive in a coffin. He knew he had buried the pair around nine, and he didn't know how long oxygen lasted. He hoped that the girl wasn't a cannibal – that would require some explaining to Ironside. He imagined the conversation in his head to keep himself amused.

"_Thomas, this boy has chunks of his body missing! I'm a boring idiot, and also a stupid American. We are late for world wars and do not appreciate sarcasm. We can never be as great as you."_

"_Why thank you. I am devilishly handsome, after all."_

Some remnant of sanity told Thomas that the conversation would probably not happen like that, but it was important to dream. He actually hoped the girl was still alive, so he would have something to take out his frustration on. Denying access to Ferb was unthinkable! It was…

A sudden drumming-like noise in the distance attracted his attention. Straightening his back and listening closely, Thomas realised that it was the sound of an approaching attacker, running at full speed. He knew he had little time. But as he turned, he knew he was too late.

A small but powerful fist slammed into his face, launching him backward into the shallow grave. He quickly scrambled to his feet and clambered out of the pit, seeing his attacker for the first time.

Isabella stood in full Fireside Girl uniform, ready to engage the enemy, and looked very annoyed.

"Oh look," she said, the façade of a sweet little girl not quite gone from her voice. "It's Lex Luthor."

"Aheheh. Can we talk about this?" Thomas chuckled nervously.

"Phineas wants to," said Isabella. "Unfortunately for you, _I'm_ taking you to him."

Thomas spread out his trembling arms in an attempt at diplomacy – he knew Isabella was far more adept than him.

"Look, Xion…"

"Isabella."

"Whatever. Just… please. Mercy?"

"Don't worry," Isabella smiled grimly. "You'll survive."

The girl leapt over the shallow grave, pulling back her fist for another strike. As she landed she let loose a vicious punch, but the psychopath sidestepped, attempting to flee. Isabella swung her other arm, to be rewarded with a yell of pain and a satisfying thud as her fist hit Thomas on the back of the head. The tuxedo wearing lunatic stumbled, giving Isabella an opening. A flurry of punches and kicks were unleashed on Thomas, who barely managed to block one. Suddenly he shot forward, and sharp pointed teeth clashed together merely an inch from Isabella's nose. The close proximity allowed Isabella to bring her hands down harshly on the sides of her opponent's head, causing him to yelp like a wounded dog. Thomas staggered backward, clutching his head, and Isabella took advantage, flooring him with a skilled leg swipe.

Thomas panted violently, the panic fully visible on his face. Isabella picked up the shovel.

"Do you have any idea what you did, you piece of filth?" she shrieked suddenly, making Thomas flinch.

The flat side of the shovel swung down to smack sharply against Thomas' leg. The psychopath screamed in pain, arching his head back, and Isabella responded by hitting him again.

"You kidnap me!" she cried, punctuating her sentences with another blow of the shovel. "You try to burn me alive! You try to kill Ferb! You buried me alive! … but most of all, you tried… to kill… Phineas!"

She brought the shovel down a final time, but Thomas had long since stopped crying out, reduced to whimpering slightly.

"You…" Isabella gasped between breaths, lowering the shovel. "You are the worst person I've ever met. Your only positive quality is _some_ sort of affection for Ferb, but I'm not even sure that's a constant!" She felt a cold tear traverse her face, and wiped it away. "I've… I've never felt so much hate…" she exclaimed, raising her hands to her head.

Terrified black eyes met Isabella's rage-filled blue. Thomas gazed up in defeat, accepting of his position. Isabella realised she had the monster at her mercy. Slowly, her breathing calmed, and she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, and pity for the defeated creature cowering before her. She gently pulled Thomas to his feet.

"Come on," she said, voice returned to normal. "Phineas wants to see you."

* * *

Phineas stood at the window, his gaze troubled. It had not been his choice to stay in the cabin, but Isabella had insisted, citing his injury as a liability. '_I don't want you hurt again,' _she'd said, and Phineas realised the huge debt he owed his friend. Sometimes he felt he should tell her just how much…

The door was kicked open and Thomas slumped into the building, slamming face first onto the wooden floor. Isabella hopped over her fallen enemy and shut the door quietly. She smiled at Phineas.

"One lunatic, bound and delivered! Sign please."

Phineas grinned and embraced Isabella, lifting her slightly off of her feet. The girl sighed slightly in his arms.

"I was so worried, thank goodness! I… Thomas, what happened to you?"

Thomas struggled in vain against the rope binding his hands together, looking very sheepish as Phineas eyed the various emerging bruises.

"I… fell down the stairs…" he muttered. "Angry, pink, tsundere stairs..."

Phineas thought it best not to enquire. He produced his watch, placing Isabella back on the floor.

"I was right," he said glumly. "The water got right through, the teleporter is useless. Unless I get another clockwork watch…"

"Umm, Phineas?" Isabella said, raising an eyebrow. "The nut job?"

"Oh, yeah!" Phineas remembered, and knelt down beside the writhing Thomas. "Look, Thomas, I'm sorry for the violence, but I need your help."

In response, Thomas tried to bite Phineas, but failed, once again held by the rope.

"I don't think this is going to work…" Isabella said. At the sound of her voice, Thomas immediately shrank, curling into the foetal position. Isabella sounded surprised. "Then again…"

Phineas lay a hand on the rope binding Thomas' arms.

"I only need information. Just tell me what's going on, and we'll let you go."

"Speak for yourself," said Isabella.

"…aheh… fine," Thomas spat. "What do you want to know? Don't let it be said I'm dishonest."

Phineas pinched the bridge of his nose, preparing to take the information with a pinch of salt.

"Everything."

"I was born in hospital…" Thomas began, until a look from Isabella made him swallow nervously. "Aheheh. Joking."

"Careful," said Isabella. "We can make your life a misery."

"My life _is _a misery," Thomas shot back, looking very small.

"Who are you working for?" Phineas asked, an annoyed tone beginning to creep into his voice. "This was strategic. Organised. You're not behind this. Who is?"

Thomas rolled against the wall and pulled himself into a seated position. He rested the back of his head against the window. Despite his surroundings, he was obviously pleased to have an audience.

"Smile Away," he said with a sigh. "I'm just an instrument, you're right. The man in charge… like a father to me, really, his name's Ironside. He's been planning this for Janus knows how long. I don't know much about him. Came out of nowhere apparently. He plans on 'sending a message' to the world or something. That's why he needs you. And… Ferb. You can't stop him, really. I mean, I failed, but eventually he'll come for you."

Thomas took a brief moment to cough and close his eyes before he continued.

"The other guy in charge is Doctor Ludovico. He's new, came after I left, after Ironside took a scalpel to the old doc. They picked him up in Argentina. He's apparently notorious for something, but I couldn't care any less. Aheheh. That's his baby, blocking your screens," he said, pointing at the blacked out monitors.

"What is it?" Isabella asked, peering at the screens.

"They're… processing the kids. Industrial style. Danville has fallen, and your lives are forfeit to the Cause. Aheheh."

Phineas cut through Thomas' defiance with a question.

"Why?"

The psychopath blinked, unable to grasp the meaning. He wriggled in his bonds slightly, until he saw something on the roof.

"Why don't you ask Ironside? He's watching."

Isabella brought her gaze up, angrily turning to her enemy.

"That's impossible! No one can get in here! It's … unprecedented…"

She saw the tiny camera nestled in the corner of the roof, smugly turning on the spot, taking in everything. Instinctively, Isabella jumped and ripped the machine from its place, removing the spy with one hand.

"Oh, now you'll make him mad…" groaned the captive.

Phineas turned back to look at him.

"Where is this Ironside? If we can talk to him, maybe…"

The phone rang. The shrill blast cut through the cabin, causing all of the occupants to jump nervously. It was the emergency line to the mayor's office, wobbling slightly on the wooden table. Phineas approached it as if it were a bomb. Cautiously, and at a nod from Isabella, he picked up the receiver.

"H- hello?"

A deep growl came through the phone.

"Phineas Flynn… at last."

"Ironside?"

"That is one of my names."

"Please," said Phineas, nervously tugging at his suit collar. The disembodied voice managed to fill any listener with dread. "Listen to me. Whatever you want, surely you can let my friends go?"

"I'm sorry Phineas. I'm afraid I can't do that."

Phineas closed his eyes and sighed. He could tell there would be no reasoning with this man. He clenched his teeth and replied in a surprisingly cold voice,

"Then we have nothing to talk about."

Phineas prepared to hang up, but the voice came through again.

"That's a very nice girl you're hanging around with. She'll make good dog food."

"Dogs? What dogs?" exclaimed Phineas, suddenly alarmed.

At the mention of dogs, Thomas turned very pale. Twisting in his place, he managed to look out the window.

"Oh, _bollocks_."

Isabella rushed to the window to investigate, and gasped at the sight. The cabin was surrounded by slavering attack dogs, all lowered, with teeth bared and hackles raised. One distressed looking handler struggled to hold them back. Isabella glanced around frantically for an escape route, while Thomas began to panic.

"Ironside!" The English captive called out. "Don't do this! The kid thinks he's Jesus or something, but just don't release those dogs! No matter what the boy says!"

Ironside grunted on the other side of the phone.

"They'll take care of your companions," he said quietly to Phineas. "But you… Get ready to join your brother."

Phineas held the receiver very tightly. Some powerful force glinted in his eyes.

"I was right earlier. We have nothing to talk about."

Phineas cast the phone aside, and turned to Isabella.

"What are our options?" he asked, a sudden aura of command surrounding him.

Isabella stood loyally before him and gestured to a floorboard.

"We're completely surrounded, but there's an old tunnel we can use."

"Good," the boy replied. "Let's get it open."

"MANIAC!" Thomas shrieked. "YOU'VE KILLED US!"

A sudden bang rang out as something big rammed against the cabin door. A dangerous golden eye flashed through the lock. Phineas faltered slightly as Isabella pulled up the floorboard to reveal a dark passage, stretching out into total blackness.

"Going underground again," he groaned. "Isabella, in case we don't make it…"

He suddenly darted forward and kissed his friend on the cheek. Isabella met his gaze, and the two blushed deeply as they both realised what was happening. Phineas smiled despite himself, and began to open his mouth to say something.

"Isabella, I…"

"Aheheh, this is all _very_ touching…" Thomas said with mock pleasantness, struggling to stand. "But, might I ask, at which point did I stumble out of reality and into BLOODY LOVE ACTUALLY? FOR JANUS' SAKE, SAVE ME!"

Isabella grabbed the hostile Englander by his bonds, and the three of them entered the tunnel as the door crashed open.

"Isabella?" Phineas asked nervously.

"I'm working on it!"

Isabella ran towards a switch in the tunnel, and fumbled to reach it in the dark. She hit it just as a huge Alsatian became visible at the mouth of the tunnel. A stone slab rushed forward and sealed the tunnel before the dog could move, granting the three children safety.

Phineas slid to the ground, blinking rapidly. Isabella leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Thomas paced from wall to wall of the tunnel, furious.

"Great! Thanks to you two, I'm an outcast! I am now officially done for!" He pulled violently at the rope binding his arms. Something caused him to pause.

"Funny," he said. "I don't think Caesar was with them."

Phineas and Isabella looked at their captive questioningly. A sudden bark echoed throughout the tunnel, resulting in alarmed looks from the group. Thomas groaned.

"Aheheh. _That's_ Caesar. In with us."

Phineas was sorely tempted to swear. Ironside had known about the tunnel all along. Of course he had! The camera could have been there for months! He reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken watch.

"I don't suppose anyone has any spare parts?" he asked darkly.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Don't panic! Candace hasn't given up yet. I thought it best that Isabella dole out the karma in regards to Thomas - Phineas is competent and all, but I think Isabella appears much more capable in the series, and besides, Phineas just doesn't have it in him. You'll notice Thomas actually shuts up when Isabella attacks - even a lunatic understands that Fireside Girl justice is Serious Business. And don't worry, just because Thomas is currently being dragged along with our heroes doesn't mean I've forgotten how much of a monster he is. Phineas swears by 'Jove' in the series - Jove is the leader of the Roman gods, and by contrast, Thomas swears by Janus, the god of doors, who is quite literally 'two-faced'. Before I go, an additional detail - the Smile Away motto, 'floreat iuventus', translates to 'Let Youth Flourish' in Latin. It's not a very suitable motto.**


	6. Tyger, Tyger

**Hello again, and thanks for reading! I know you probably want to see what happens to Phineas, Isabella and to a lesser extent, Thomas, but this chapter primarily focuses on Ironside. So now, instead of reading about him sitting in a chair and Kicking the Dog, you get to see him move about and Kick the Dog!**_

* * *

_

_Ten Years Ago_

"So, are you looking forward to working here?" asked Professor Napier, smiling at the man standing in front of his desk. "Please take a seat. Tea?"

"I do not look forward to anything, Professor," grumbled Ironside, staring straight through Napier into the back of his chair. "And I have no need to sit. And no tea."

Napier's ever present grin flickered for a moment, but remained on his face, determined.

"Hey, no need for 'Professor', man! We're all friends here! Call me Larry!"

"No." Ironside said plainly, retaining the exact same expression and tone of voice as someone who had just stepped on something a platypus had recently passed. Two seconds into the job and he was already contemplating throwing his boss from the roof.

"We encourage the kids to call us by our first names," Napier continued cheerily, ignoring Ironside's previous objection. "It shows them that we care, and we're here to help. You don't mind if they call you Cyrus, do you?"

"I mind very much," Ironside growled.

"How about Cy?"

"No."

"Russ?"

"I'd rather use napalm as shaving foam than be called Russ. It's Ironside. Always has been."

Napier nodded as if he understood, but it was clear he wasn't listening to a word his new employee was saying. He passed a brochure over to the drill sergeant, who looked at it with the type of enthusiasm usually reserved for corpses. The brochure depicted Smile Away surrounded by unicorns and rainbows, with happy children holding hands and presumably dancing in a circle.

"Of course, your military presence gives the children a role model, someone to look up to, someone…"

"Why is the sun smiling?"

"Pardon?" Napier said, grin still dangerously stretching his face to cartoonish proportions.

"The sun," Ironside growled pointing at the brochure. "It's smiling at the children and showering them with pixie dust."

"Yes, it's very soothing, isn't it?"

Ironside placed the brochure back on the desk and straightened up, his voice barely contained.

"Will that be all?"

Napier swung his chair to face the window, his gesticulating hands now the only visible part of him.

"Yes, yes. Go – become part of the Smile family! And remember, it's hugs, smiles and love today – so tomorrow, it's Smile Away!"

Ironside turned and left, almost tearing the door from its hinges as he did so. Outside of Napier's office was a long corridor brightened by windows into the yard. Ironside glanced out and saw children running around, shrieking with glee, pulling at one another's hair and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Ironside placed his palm against the cold glass. These were problem children, mostly – children who had proven themselves to be dangerous, and were supposed to be rehabilitated. Instead, Ironside saw laziness, incompetence bred by a society that no longer believed in helping itself. The mollycoddling the staff, and indeed, parents everywhere lay upon their children was disgusting. In ancient Rome, part of every decent child's upbringing was tough military training. Ironside suddenly smirked. He would show the sycophants and overprotective whiners – problem children had a solution.

_Eight Years Ago_

Napier stood in slack-jawed amazement at the regiment of children stood before him. Ironside stood proudly beside him, smirking at 'Larry's' reaction. Napier peered closely at one child, noting that the subject did not even acknowledge his presence.

"I've never seen such obedience. How did you do this?"

"I stood them in a river for a day. Anyone who moved was subjected to broken fingers. They learned quickly."

"Haha, good one, man, good one!" Napier chuckled. "Well if you won't reveal your trade secrets, I won't pry! My only complaint is that they don't seem to smile anymore. They don't seem like happy bunnies…"

Ironside snorted with laughter and addressed the unit.

"Smile!"

The children grinned simultaneously, staring straight at Napier, making him feel very uncomfortable. He laughed nervously, and began to head back to his office.

"Well, can't argue with logic like that…" he said politely, and was gone.

Ironside was not pleased, however. The fear was not enough – the children needed to be brainwashed in order for them to be integrated into society. Otherwise, they could cause untold damage in the absence of a commanding officer. Ironside made a mental note to contact a morally dubious CIA man he knew. All of this can be arranged, he thought. You just have to look in the right places.

_Six Years Ago_

The officers struggled valiantly with the writhing child, who bit and tore at them, unleashing long streams of expletives between each assault. The strange procession staggered past Ironside and Napier on the way to the patient rooms. Napier gestured towards the swearing English child as he was dragged away.

"A real rotten egg there, Cy- I mean, Ironside. He burned down a whole block of houses, can you believe that? His father just gave up hope – poor man lost his wife, you know…" Napier looked thoughtful for a moment, and then elbowed Ironside playfully. "Nothing you can't handle, though. Eh? Am I right?"

"Right," said Ironside darkly.

Napier made as if to leave, and then seemed to remember something.

"Have you heard about those prodigies down in Danville? Phoebus and Fern, or something like that – they're like six years old and they're building robots! Ah, children can be so wonderful sometimes…"

That night, as Ironside spent all of his waking hours feverishly researching this 'Dynamic Duo', something beginning to formulate in his head. As he peered into his blinding computer screen, he began to mutter to himself.

"Symbols… all about symbolism… An inverted cross… A crucifix… How to preserve something like that. Reach out and take it. What immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry…"

_Five Years Ago_

Ironside felt something tug at his uniform, and looked down, lip curling in distaste. Thomas returned the stare, expression unreadable due to his black, emotionless eyes. Ironside flicked Thomas' hand from his uniform.

"What is it?"

Thomas shifted from foot to foot.

"Aheheh… We, uh… That is, Bob…"

"Hurry up. Poor communication skills earn you a night in the box."

"Well, sir, it's Christmas Day, and we… I… Bob thought we should get you a present."

Thomas held out a grubby looking tie, patched and sewn from various Smile Away jumpsuits, the cheerful orange colour dulled by black and brown dirt and mud, making the whole piece look extremely pathetic. Thomas stared upward at Ironside, awaiting a reaction.

"You… made this?" Ironside said slowly, picking up the item with a forefinger and thumb as if it were contaminated.

"Aheheh. Yes sir. If you like it, it was me. But if you don't, well, it was all Bob's idea."

"Creative acts are imitable and dangerous…" Ironside growled, and suddenly backhanded Thomas across the yard. The English child fell to the ground and lay still, and the other patients turned their heads away, pretending nothing was happening.

"No rations for anyone tonight," Ironside shouted as he swept inside the complex, leaving the children confused and cold.

_Two Years Ago_

Napier sat in his office, absentmindedly picking his nose. Just when he thought he had a hold of a particularly big one, the door burst open and Ironside stood in the doorway, blocking the light from outside with his massive frame. The drill sergeant stayed silent until Napier finally had the courage to say something.

"By George, Cyrus, if you don't mind me saying, you don't look like a very happy bunny."

"No," Ironside snarled, drawing his pistol. "No I'm not."

The next day, Ironside sat before Napier's lawyer, who was visibly saddened.

"Why would he do something like this?" The lawyer asked, his eyes watering.

"Most of the time, people who are depressed pretend to be the most well-adjusted of us," said Ironside, his expression remarkably straight. "Perhaps the stress of the job just got to him. He will be missed by everyone. Poor Larry."

"Yeah," sniffed the lawyer. "Looks like he left you everything in his will. What a good friend."

"The best," smirked Ironside.

_One Month Ago_

"Sergeant, Sergeant! Come quick!" Bob cried, eyes widened in panic. "He's killing him!"

Ironside was there in an instant, almost disbelieving of the scene that confronted him. A greasy, bearded man was lying on the ground as Thomas repeatedly hit at him with a metal pole. At each blow, the man would only whine or yelp, like a wild animal.

"He's killing that caveman!" Bob yelled.

"Aheheh. It's not a caveman, you obese moron, it's just a freaking hobo!"

"What are you doing Thomas?" Ironside asked, and the boy instantly stopped hitting the downed figure. He avoided Ironside's piercing gaze.

"He, aheh, wandered in through the main gates. He was chasing a man dressed as a sandwich."

"A sandwich." Ironside repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and he said something about Ferb, and someone called Conk. He didn't seem to understand when I asked him what he meant. So, naturally, I'm torturing him."

Ironside weighed his decision in his head. Thomas was clearly unstable, but the caveman/homeless man could very well hold useful information. It was too good an opportunity to miss. Besides, the whole situation was rather amusing.

"Carry on," Ironside commanded, and left.

"Wait!" Bob cried. "You can't just let him do this! It's… evil."

He realised no-one was listening, and in a small voice added,

"It's my birthday."

_Three Weeks Ago_

"Where's Thomas?" Bob asked, poking his head around the corner of the office door.

"He graduated," Ironside said gruffly, scribbling something down.

Bob seemed to realise that he now had no-one to talk to, and glanced around awkwardly. Several angry-looking dogs eyed him hungrily from their position on the carpet. Eventually, he pointed out a flaw in Ironside's judgement.

"Couldn't that backfire and harm your plans boss?"

"Get out you idiot! I'm your CO, so you just obey without question!"

_Twenty Days Ago_

"Gunnery Sergeant Cyrus Ironside, you are hereby under arrest for a series of gross offences that are too numerous to list. But list them we did." The police officer held up a long scroll of paper that scrolled all the way back out of the office and out of the school. "This is just the first volume," he said.

Ironside simply stared at the officers in front of him. He arched an eyebrow in what may have been amusement. He held up his hands in surrender, but smiled coldly at his arresting officers.

"Please, gentlemen… Before you go, I have one thing to say… Caesar!"

Bob entered just as the dogs attacked, and had to shout over the ensuing carnage to address his commanding officer.

"SIR! WILL WE BE LEAVING NOW-!"

"Oh, Jehovah! It's got me! Oh, the hum-!"

"What?" Ironside said, cupping a hand to his ear. The screams seemed to only intensify as the mess around his office grew.

"I SAID, WILL WE BE LEAVING NOW? THE HELICOPTER IS READY!"

"Oh, yes," Ironside remembered, and stood up from his chair. He stepped lightly over the massacre in the centre of the room and left the office. "Excuse me, officer. I have other business to attend to, with someone who is actually living."

_Eighteen Days Ago_

The door burst open, allowing the harsh Argentinean sunlight to flood into the tiny hovel, shedding light on decades-old furniture, and even older medical equipment. Ludovico made to run, but Ironside caught him by the neck. The old man ceased struggling, apparently accepting that his past had caught up with him.

"Doctor," Ironside said quietly. "You weren't thinking about leaving, were you?"

"Who is this Doctor?" Ludovico protested in vain. "I know no doctors! I am merely a peaceful farm-!"

The grip tightened.

"Listen carefully Ludovico. On my way in here, I met with a charming group of gentlemen very interested in your whereabouts. Nice guys, actually. Mostly Russian and Israeli. Can't imagine why they'd be after _you_. I have a job for you in America. You can come with me now, or wait for your old friends to show up."

Ludovico grabbed his hat and cane from the coat stand and nervously looked at Ironside, sweat building up on his brow. He clutched his cane tightly, his knuckled turning white.

"So… America? Sounds good."

He hurried from the building and into the waiting helicopter, never once looking back.

* * *

Ironside ceased his reminiscing and leaned forward in his chair. It had been a long time, but despite the struggle against stupidity and cowardice, he was finally victorious. At least, almost victorious. He glared angrily at the phone sitting on the desk. Phineas should have surrendered. He ran a hand over his growing stubble. Well, he thought, it couldn't be helped. There was always the possibility of human error in the best of plans. It was best to simply relax until the situation resolved itself. He reached into the drawer of the desk, and was pleased to find some expensive cigars. He clenched one in his teeth as he looked for something to light it with. He could afford some luxury after all. This recreation was well deserved. As he patted down his uniform in his search for matches, Bob's voice crackled through the communicator.

"Ummm… Boss? We uh, lost the girl, Candace. She's just… gone."

A lighter was no longer required. Sheer primal fury caused the cigar to burst into flames and drop to the desk as ash.

* * *

Candace opened her eyes, squinting around in the dark. She had been running, that she remembered. The ground had suddenly given way and she was engulfed in darkness. She felt a searing pain in her shins as she got to her feet. Tentatively stepping forward, she jumped when her foot connected with something.

She peered down, and was shocked to see the figure of a teenage boy sprawled on the floor, tranquiliser sticking from his neck. He appeared to be some sort of intern. Beside him, an older man wearing a military uniform was slumped against the wall, also unconscious. In the centre of the room, a large group of animals wearing hats were piled up against one another, visibly tranquilised. Among them, Candace was sure she could see Isabella's dog Pinky. Thankfully, all of the victims were breathing.

"Zebra," she spoke into the dark.

The zebra materialised before her, stirring a glass of whiskey and wearing an expensive dressing gown. It looked rather annoyed.

"Kevin, it's like two o'clock in the morning… I need my sleep - I have my kid's clarinet recital to go to today!"

Candace looked rather perplexed at this, but brushed it off.

"I need your help. The police officer strategy didn't work."

The zebra floated over towards the unresponsive OWCA agents, peering closely at Pinky. It summoned a pipe from nowhere and began smoking thoughtfully. It glanced over at the old man in the corner.

"Remember, Kevin, Ironside is only a Gunnery Sergeant… that man wears a major's bars."

"Do you think he'll mind?" Candace asked, kneeling beside the uniformed figure.

"Oh, undoubtedly he'll mind Kevin, you're stealing his uniform."

"I only need the bits that show rank," said Candace, and pulled the officer bars from the major's uniform. The bars easily clipped on to her dress. She stood up and looked for an exit.

"So, this'll allow me to overrule Ironside?" she called back to the zebra.

Her mentor began to fade away, laughing slightly. Candace walked out of the base in search of an elevator while the answer echoed all around her.

"I sure hope so, Kevin. You're on your own now."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I purposefully didn't reveal anything about Ironside's past before Smile Away, because he is essentially a nightmare - not literally, but he comes out of nowhere, and you can't escape him. It doesn't matter what he did before Smile Away, because it defines him. I also tried to show his different attitude to violence compared to Thomas - Thomas enjoys it, whereas Ironside just accepts it as part of everyday life, hence his nonchalant reaction to dogs eating people. Also, while I'm here, see how many times someone offers tea in this fic. I'd like to say it's an English thing, but I'm Scottish, so it's really just a bizarre running gag.**


	7. Two Riders Were Approaching

**Hello once again, and thanks for reading! And in this chapter, we return to our heroes (and psychopath), in that ever common situation of being hunted by a vicious hellhound...**

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Phineas traced his hand along the concrete, absent-mindedly following small indentations with his finger. Perhaps a mile away, or perhaps even a few feet away, a massive dog was hunting them. Phineas could hear the snarling echoing throughout the passage, but had no idea where the creature was.

"Isabella?" he asked slowly. "How long is this tunnel?"

"Two miles. We have some time."

Phineas closed his eyes, aware that 'some' time was not enough. He looked at his broken watch with a hopeless expression on his face, which Isabella noticed.

"Why do you need a watch for it?"

Phineas separated the modifications he had made from the watch, exposing the inner mechanisms of the clockwork. He held out the strange device for Isabella to see.

"It attaches to the clockwork – using the energy from that to power itself. If the clockwork stops, s does the transporter."

"So it doesn't work on digital watches then," Isabella sighed. Phineas felt a pang of guilt for failing her.

"Aheheh. You know, I've never minded death, but I don't particularly want to be eaten. SO DO SOMETHING! Ugh… Don't suppose either of you little serfs have tea?"

"Unless you have something constructive to say, don't say anything at all!" Isabella snapped. "Or are you just going to sit there and complain about teatime?"

Thomas smiled, his usual smug demeanour returned.

"It's pronounced 'Te-ah-ti-meh'," he smirked, and added afterwards, "Besides, I have a watch."

Phineas and Isabella both slowly turned to look at the grinning captive, who propped himself up against the wall. They looked at one another.

"He's got us there," admitted Phineas.

"We could just take it," Isabella said through gritted teeth.

"If you try anything, I'll break it," Thomas called.

Caesar's growling and panting was becoming progressively louder, and the sound of paws hitting against concrete soon joined them.

"Why would you do that?" Isabella asked, amazed at the boy's insanity.

"It'd be funny. Aheheh. I don't care; you've ruined my life, so why can't I ruin yours?"

"Enough!" Phineas snapped, silencing Isabella and Thomas immediately. His tone dropped to a lighter one as he asked, "Can I please use your watch, Thomas?"

Thomas shifted strangely in his position, grin getting wider.

"Of course."

When Phineas moved forward, Thomas spoke again.

"But I want to keep it. When we get out of here, I mean. Aheheh."

Isabella made as if to protest, but Phineas nodded his head at Thomas' words. It was best to get out of the situation first.

"Okay. Now can I see it?"

Thomas turned around, exposing his bonded hands, where a beautiful watch sat in pristine condition. Phineas realized that he had seen the watch somewhere before, but he could not remember exactly. He held out his hand for Isabella's pen-knife and cut through the thin rope binding Thomas' hands. The captive glanced at his freed hands, smiling wickedly, but seemed to remember his promise, and unfastened his watch, lightly tossing it to Phineas.

"Don't break it," he said in a surprisingly child-like tone.

Phineas mumbled in thanks as he examined the watch, realizing where he had seen it before. It was either Ferb's watch or at least a watch of the same make. Phineas easily removed the back of the watch and looked at the inner clockwork. With a fine eye, he easily identified Ferb's handiwork on the gears – Ferb had obviously crafted it after his own. Phineas placed the teleportation device lightly onto the exposed mechanics, and it attached with a metallic snap, sudden blue light pulsing through the tunnel.

"Where does he get all these wonderful toys?" Thomas asked, watching the blue light dance around the tunnel walls, completely forgetting the current situation.

"You know, you never fail to amaze, Phineas," Isabella chirped happily, taking the boy's hand.

Phineas smiled, and pressed the necessary modifications into place. The device hummed softly, fully operational.

"Come on, let's go!" Phineas called to Thomas, who somewhat grudgingly complied.

Heavy breathing suddenly flooded the tunnel as Caesar rounded the tunnel, nearly filling it. The Doberman flattened its ears upon establishing visual contact. Hackles rose as the dog lowered, ready to pounce.

"Ah!" Thomas squawked, and pointed at Isabella. "Eat her!"

There was no need for the dog to eat Isabella, however. Phineas pressed down on the 'transport' button, and the tunnel disappeared in a flash of blue. The first thing Phineas saw was more concrete rushing up to meet him, and he landed hard on the ground with a wince. He rose onto his knees, glancing around groggily at the alleyway he found himself in. He guessed they were near town square.

Phineas felt cold hands wrap around his neck tightly, and an overpowering stench filled his nostrils. He struggled to speak.

"A little close Thomas," he gasped.

"Aheheh. You know what they say about familiarity, right? It breeds contempt."

Phineas tried to reply, and discovered he could no longer breathe at all. Eyes rolling wildly, he flailed helplessly, struggling like a dying fish. Thomas whispered into his ear all the while. Blackness swirled at the corner of Phineas' vision, eager to swoop over his entire being.

"Going to keep it? You sneaky little thief… Just think you can take it along with everything else, heh? Ferb, my hair, my watch… The universe has done nothing but take a collective dump on my existence – you have time to – urk!"

The grip loosened, and Phineas fell forward, gasping at the free air. Behind him, he heard the sound of fighting, but was too weak to do anything. What sounded like the impact of metal on bone rang out, and Thomas stumbled past him, intent on fleeing. The sociopath achieved a distance of three feet before he was whipped backward by the sash thrown around his neck. The suited child was airborne for an impressive amount of time, and landed painfully on the paving.

A soft hand pulled Phineas to his feet. He struggled to laugh in between breaths.

"You… have been consistently… amazing tonight, you know that?"

Isabella smiled in response, pulling her sash back over her head. She froze when Phineas lightly brushed the hair from her face.

"The hair, it, eh…" Phineas muttered hastily, confused at Isabella's expression.

"Aheheh."

Phineas felt a stab of annoyance and hatred. The sociopath had the uncanny ability to ruin every single moment, no matter how small. Isabella dealt a swift kick to her downed foe, who merely chuckled in response.

"Not again," said Isabella to herself, and then to Phineas, "We can't keep him any longer. He's just so incredibly stupid – he'll just keep trying."

She stood on top of Thomas as she spoke, ignoring his groans.

"We should tie him up here and leave him."

Phineas pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear his head. His throat was searing with pain, and he was sure he was making an odd noise when he spoke, but his words were clear enough.

"No. I made a promise."

Isabella's stare could have exploded heads.

"Phineas, you're my best friend, but you couldn't have picked a worst time to go completely bonkers."

"I'm serious Isabella. Let him up."

The Fireside Girl chief begrudgingly hopped from her improvised stage, clearly fuming. Phineas empathised, but a promise was a promise. Thomas stood up, and without speaking, it was obvious he was ungrateful. Phineas wordlessly handed him the watch, teleporter still intact. Thomas eyed it suspiciously, jabbing at it with his bony finger. Apparently satisfied, he prepared to activate the device.

"Wait," said Phineas. "Ferb made that."

"He did."

"You kept it."

Isabella resisted the urge to scream 'uh, durr' at the top of her voice. Much harder to resist was the temptation to use her Star of David pendant as a throwing star, and finally shut Thomas up.

Phineas' face showed genuine compassion, whereas Thomas looked very annoyed.

"There's some part of you that has to care about him, about this! Surely you realise this is wrong? Come with me. We can help you. Whatever happened to you – deep down, you're still human. Please."

Phineas held out a hand. Annoyance changed to pure rage, and Thomas began to foam at the mouth. The crazed child was also visibly close to tears.

"It's wrong, is it? That's all you can come up with? I don't care about your crappy moral subtleties. If I stopped all this, what would I return to exactly? Being the loner, the gunsel, the psycho? The whipping boy? You don't get to say that. Both you, and your little fascist girlfriend, can go to hell. Aheheh."

The blue light flashed out once more, and Phineas and Isabella stood in the alleyway. Isabella placed a hand on Phineas' shoulder and he looked at her over his shoulder, shaken and tired. For the first time, Isabella saw the toll the night had taken on her friend – his hair was matted and his face smeared with dirt and cuts, eyes struggling to stay open in the dark.

"You tried, Phineas. I don't agree, but I'm proud."

Phineas turned and embraced her, resting his head on her shoulder. Isabella stood as a pillar, supporting her friend as he closed his eyes, shaking terribly. Isabella talked softly to him as he tried to control himself.

"Shusshh… Just breathe in… breathe out… Keep moving, huh? You need to hold on Phineas. I believe in you."

* * *

Baljeet struggled in the arms of two large Smile Away recruits, who barely noticed him, despite his loud protests. Baljeet was dragged ever closer to the silver sarcophagus which waited on the production floor, in neat arrangement with others like it. All around him, Baljeet saw other children in similar predicaments, pulled violently along the cold metal floor towards a cold metal prison. Baljeet began to hyperventilate at the thought of the confined space. Feverishly, he hoped for Buford to suddenly break free and come to his rescue, the way he always did. But he could see Buford now, head drooping limply as he was hauled towards his own 'accommodation'.

He was roughly forced into the crude shape of a child, in a position that allowed little movement. The Smile Away recruits just stared past him as they fitted the arm and leg restraints, almost absent-mindedly forcing tubes down his throat. He tried to scream, but produced only a weak gargle. Any protests were drowned out by loud classical music.

And then the sarcophagus lid slammed shut, and in an instant, all was dark.

Ludovico tapped his cane against an occupied containment capsule, cheeringly humming to himself.

"Hello, hello? Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can here me…"

A pair of Smile Away students marched past him, dragging a small Fireside Girl. The cane smacked across the boys' chests, causing them to grunt and stop in their path. Ludovico stepped in front of them, and lifted the girl's chin up so he could see her. He remembered this one's file, Gretchen something or other. She attempted to pull away as cold clinical eyes scanned her.

"Healthy, active, wilful," Ludovico said, more to himself than to his assistants. "A good test subject. Okay boys, this one. Take it up to the control room – I'll experiment while keeping an eye on this lot."

The boys complied wordlessly, and frogmarched Gretchen off in the opposite direction, while Ludovico murmured to himself.

"Eyes not the right shade though. Too dark blue. It may be necessary to force a change… Why not? I certainly brought enough syringes and chemicals. I'm sure I can do something with them."

* * *

_Space Adventure! It's an adventure in space!_

Heinz groaned as the next film started, rubbing his forehead weakly. Perry the Platypus chattered sleepily beside him, almost succeeding in his pursuit of peace and quiet. However, Heinz would not stop talking, and Perry was becoming increasingly aggravated.

"This is my least favourite one," the doctor rambled. "It has these pointless scenes where two awesome characters are sidelined in favour of new, boring ones the new writer wants to present. It's like, dude, write within the established canon already! No-one wants to watch your boring new villain! Just because you can hire John Hurt doesn't mean you always should! You don't leave two of the most popular characters for like eight scenes – you've forgotten about them!"

Perry had had enough. Leaping from the sofa and onto his feet, he stormed towards the television set, determined to achieve tranquillity. Heinz straightened up in his seat, looking slightly alarmed.

"I didn't say switch it off, Perry the Platypus! It's not so bad it's horrible! It has a sort of charm to it!"

There was to be no mercy for Space Adventure, however. Perry angrily switched the DVD player off, to Heinz' dismay.

"Aw, come on! What are you, Perry the Film Critic now? Hey, what's that?"

On the screen, children were being forced onto a strange conveyor belt, along some sort of brainwashing production line. A rather strange looking child was singing while the crowd was fed to a giant black factory, mostly gears and smoke. The display seemed to be on a loop. Heinz squinted at the television, and Perry's eyes widened in horror.

"I think Malcolm McDowell's in this actually. Although I don't remember a musical number…"

The camera passed over a familiar teenager, struggling against chains, calling for her father. For a moment, Vanessa's eyes met with the camera, and she stared out of the television set.

"Dad?" she was calling, tears in her eyes.

Perry turned to look at his nemesis, who was frozen in his seat. Heinz' face twitched, and a low rumbling sound came from his throat. Perry jumped as Heinz suddenly shot up, fleetly crossed the room to reach the window, and tore down the soundproof barrier with rage-fuelled strength. A terrifying noise swept through Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated – Heinz and Perry were suddenly subjected to the cacophony emanating from the machine that now dominated town square.

Perry glanced up at his old friend, and chattered his feelings.

"_Ctrtrtrt__…"_

Doofenshmirtz tightened his grip on the windowsill, eyes growing dark.

"Perry the Platypus?"

The secret agent blinked in response.

"You. And me. Are going to destroy that machine." The words came through gritted teeth, the pain evident in them. "And when we do, we will find who's responsible. And I. Am going. To tear them. Limb. From. Limb."

Heinz pivoted away from the window, heading towards the door, dressing gown flapping wildly. Perry hurried after him, keeping hold of his hat and frantically trying to get a signal on his watch communicator. There was no response from OWCA headquarters and Perry inwardly cursed himself for failing to be more alert to danger. He needed to find his owners. And he needed to help his best friend.

Heinz stepped out of the revolving door, looking out onto the deserted street. The noise of the machine continued to be the only sound in the entire city. The doctor's slippers slapped against the cold concrete, and were soon joined by the patter of platypus feet. Heinz smiled in thanks at his companion.

The dog handler was unceremoniously abandoned by his wards – without Caesar, the dogs had no pack leader. They wandered through the streets towards Ironside's last known location, infuriated at their own failure to catch prey. The largest dog, Tiberius, suddenly raised its head. The others heard it too, and the pack moved into a tight formation as they turned the corner.

Heinz and Perry became aware of intense growling behind them, and slowly turned. The pack of Alsatians and Dobermans bayed, each looking hungrily at the intruders. Doofenshmirtz laughed nervously.

"Uh, Perry the Platypus? We're going to have to run to that machine. And seeing as I am the expert in making inventions explode, you'll have to protect me, so I-!"

Perry simply grabbed the doctor's sleeve and began to run. The strange pair began to sprint towards their objective, the vicious pack snapping at their heels.

* * *

Isabella held up a hand to signal a halt. Phineas nearly walked into her, and looked around nervously.

"What is it?"

"We're being followed," Isabella whispered.

"By who?"

Isabella didn't answer his question, taking the time to try to save her friend.

"You run, Phineas. I'll stay and hold it off."

"Isabella, I can't let you-!"

The drumming of feet came into earshot, and Isabella assumed a fighting stance. Phineas stepped back from her, but stubbornly refused to leave.

The orange blur appeared in their line of sight, dashing through various alleyways at nearly impossible speeds. It suddenly shot down towards Phineas and Isabella, showing no sign of stopping. Isabella jumped at the thing head on, ready to fight regardless of who or what her opponent was. The two collided and fell to the ground. Isabella was the first up and prepared to attack when her attacker spoke.

"Isabella?"

"Candace?" Isabella exclaimed in disbelief.

Candace accepted Isabella's hand and was pulled to her feet. The redhead shook her head, smiling.

"You're supposed to be dead!"

"Really?" Isabella said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I guess it didn't take."

"Candace!" Phineas yelled happily, darting forward to hug his sister, laughed out of a mixture of joy and relief.

"Thank goodness!" Candace said, ruffling her brother's hair. "The word going around was…"

"Where's Ferb?" Phineas asked curiously. "And why are you dressed like that?"

Candace's expression darkened.

"I'll explain on the way. Follow me – it's hero time."

Without another delay, Phineas and Isabella followed the older girl, the heroic trio heading ever closer to the monstrous creation that filled the skies with screaming. In the distance, a single gunshot rang out, which scared Phineas more than the widespread suffering ever could.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! There are three chapters to go - 'Thomas Alone', 'Blood and Iron' and 'Auld Lang Syne'. Each of the chapers so far (with the exception of 'The Coup') have referenced something - can you guess each of them. I didn't really like having to describe the containment capsules because of the whole 'tube down throat, force feeding' thing, but logic decrees that that's how they would have to work.**


	8. Thomas Alone

**Hello again! I think this chapter serves as the WHAM episode, really. Remember I issued a dark warning? Well not only is this dark, it's also quite weird. If Thomas is John Hurt, and Ironside is Clancy Brown (as he was in the show), then Ludovico is Peter Lorre. Oh, and Ironside no longer merely Kicks the Dog - he punts them them into orbit.**

* * *

With a flash of light and a sudden outburst of noise, Thomas materialised and landed face first on the floor of the police station. Muttering swear words underneath his breath, the boy glanced around, hoping that no-one had witnessed his embarrassing entrance.

"Heh. Perfect landing."

The first floor of the police station could have been any typical office complex, but Thomas strode over to an otherwise unremarkable door that marked the entrance to the interrogation room. Ironside's guards for the room had long since departed to deal with Operation Kill Neurotic Teenage Girl, and the only obstacle in Thomas' way was the coded lock.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird…" He sang softly as his fingers danced over the combination.

The door clicked open and Thomas closed his eyes to the glare of the bare bulb against steel. Still shielding his eyes, he stumbled into the room, talking to cover his own discomfort.

"It's getting, aheheh, heated out there in the asylum, Silent Bob – we need to go now. We'll ditch this cesspit of a city, perhaps go to London. We'll begin with a reign of terror, a few murders here and there, murders of great men, murders of little men, just to show we make no distinction… We can leave all this behind…"

Lifting his hand from his face, Thomas realized with dawning horror that his 'friend' could not hear him. The human shaped casing glinted back at him, deaf to his words, and wholly unsympathetic. Thomas stood in silence while his brain struggled to process the information. He approached the sarcophagus and laid a hand on the cold steel.

"Ferb?" He asked, genuinely scared.

The container remained impassive.

"What… why? How…" Thomas began babble, fresh tears wiping the mixture of dirt and blood from his face. He shuffled awkwardly, his eyes moving increasingly erratically, small yelps breaking free of his throat. Eventually he exploded. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? THIS ISN'T FAIR!"

He punched the steel container, breaking a finger in the process. Screams of pain were drowned out by more powerful cries of rage.

"THIS IS JUST ANOTHER NAIL IN THE COFFIN! GET UP! GET OUT OF THERE YOU USELESS WANKER!"

He sank to the ground, still weakly clawing at the metal, sobbing inarticulately.

"…aheh… Ferb… please… I – I didn't mean it… well, I did, but…" He looked up at the 'face' of the container with pleading eyes. "You're all I've got… don't leave me…"

In his feeble scrapings against the figure, Thomas' hand brushed against an indentation. Trying to focus through slowing streams of tears, he became aware that it was a lock, absent its key. An inkling of an idea sparked somewhere.

Thomas had once heard a man remark that madness was an 'emergency exit' – an escape from the horrid absurdity of everyday life. If this was true, a small part of Thomas suddenly walked back inside the burning building, sat down on the couch and took command, ignorant of the fire blazing around him.

Thomas stood up and sniffed, doing his best to dry his tears. He fixed the tuxedo with a hint of resignation. A sigh escaped his mouth, and he grabbed hold of the Containment Capsule. The monstrosity was heavy, and screeched as it was dragged along the floor. Thomas kicked the door open and pulled the container into the main body of the police station. He stopped as he reached the large window that looked out over Danville, and set Ferb down. The sociopath peered at a light in the distance. The sun was beginning to rise.

"I have no idea why I'm doing this," sighed Thomas. "Stay there, Ferb. Aheheh."

With that, Thomas disappeared.

* * *

Ironside stared into the distance as the young girl before him let out a stream of expletives and threats, most involving the recipient's mother. He absent-mindedly leafed through some files as the girl continued to rant.

"You said I could have control! I planted all those stupid cameras for you – even in Fireside Girl HQ – do you have any idea how hard that was? We had a deal!"

Ironside yawned loudly and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm altering the deal, Ms Johnson. Pray that I do not alter it any further."

Suzy growled powerlessly. She was well out of her depth, and she knew it.

"But, you said all my friends – my family – you said you'd spare them!"

"Ugh. That was designated a lie."

Ironside smiled, and stood up from his seat. He wondered where his dogs had gotten to – it annoyed him that he was currently unable to set them on the girl before him. He looked out of the window, where 'Alice' still stood, production noises slowing down as the children were relocated to their new accommodation. The smell of sulphur was fading away, which disappointed him somewhat. He reached for his communicator.

"Bob? Status report."

"…nothing to report sir. We're doing our best, but like you said, this is war…"

"I said it was PEST CONTROL, you incompetent fool!"

Suzy coughed impatiently.

"I'm still here you know."

Ironside took several deep breaths, and spoke slowly into the communicator, ignoring Suzy's protests.

"Listen carefully… I want this girl found. Caught. Captured. I want her brought to me before I have to leave, and then I want her bled out BY MEATHOOKS! AND WHEN SHE RUNS OUT OF BLOOD, I WANT A TRANSFUSION DONE SO I CAN DO IT AGAIN, REGARDLESS OF HER BEING ALREADY DEAD!"

There was silence on the communication channels, as Bob tried to work out the specifics of this plan. Another person spoke on the wavelength, presumably from a different communicator.

"You want fries with that?" Candace's voice asked calmly.

Ironside crushed the communicator in his hand and brought his fist down on the desk, cracking it significantly. Suzy flinched. Ironside recovered quickly, however, and began to massage his temples.

"Everything's going according to plan… according to plan…"

Suzy quietly edged out of her seat and took careful steps backward, doing her best to remain silent. She left Ironside talking to himself and slid out of the door with a sigh of relief. These people were in a completely different league from her – she decided to find a place to lay low until the situation resolved itself. She passed a bald child on her way down the corridor, who laughed and pointed at her, exclaiming "Quisling!"

Thomas opened the door and approached the desk with a calm façade, desperately hiding his shaking hands. Ironside looked up, and snorted in annoyance.

"I suppose you didn't have the decency to get yourself killed, then."

Thomas laughed as he felt he was supposed to, as sweat rolled down his face. His arms felt heavy, and he was having difficulty grasping the situation.

"Heh. What's going on with the, uh, coffin thingies?"

Ironside decided to start putting his filing into a briefcase while offhandedly informing his subordinate.

"Danville's beyond saving. All of the patients have been deactivated." He pointed to a pocket on his uniform, where a key sat amongst some medals. "I have the only means to reverse it, and I'm leaving soon."

Thomas grinned at the plan, but suddenly reverted to nervous swallowing as he remembered why he was there.

"That, aheheh, sounds great, but uh… Could I let out one of the patients? It's kind of important."

Ironside paused in his packing of the briefcase.

"You mean the Fletcher boy?"

Thomas nodded hopefully, but Ironside resumed in his activity.

"No."

Face twitching slightly, the boy summoned the courage to speak once more.

"W- why not?"

Once again, Ironside paused in his business, but this time he put it to one side, sitting down in his chair with a dark look. A dark fire burned in the drill sergeant's gaze, burning through his subordinate.

"Are you questioning my authority, Rains?"

"Well, it just, aheheh, seems that, uh, I deserve something for all the hard work I do…"

Ironside looked amazed for once in his life.

"Work that you do? All you do is prance around and get beaten up by roughly half the population! You haven't carried out one order successfully!"

Thomas let out a defeated sigh, and finally spoke his thoughts to his commanding officer.

"Look," the sociopath said, taking a deep breath. "I don't care about your world view. I don't care about any of this – the lives lost, the ideology, the innocent little children – I just don't care!"

Ironside watched with growing amusement as Thomas continued.

"I don't care if you're doing this because your childhood sucked, or because your son died in some war, or because voices told you to do it. Hell, I don't even care if you're Satan himself, come to deliver deep-fried justice on the world!"

Ironside grinned at the last one.

"What I want, aheheh, what's most important to me, is a very simple thing. So by all means, burn this city, nuke it into oblivion, drive a combine harvester into crowds of schoolchildren… but please… give me my friend back."

Ironside's brow furrowed with interest.

"I'd thought you might do something like this in the end," the drill sergeant said with a sigh. "Throughout all the shocks, serums and treatments that obsession was a constant – aside from that horrific accent. You know, you are the worst person I know, and I've had dealings with Nazis, so that's quite an achievement."

Ironside stood up, walking round the desk towards Thomas. Startled, the boy pulled out a handgun he had found, pointing it at Ironside, who laughed.

"Stay away!" The boy's voice was shrill with terror.

"Thomas, I can't deny some sort of fondness for you. But, if you lose a son, it's possible to get another."

Thomas backed away, trembling hands pointing the gun at his boss.

"I – I don't want to…" stuttered Thomas.

"Die?" said Ironside, laughing demonically. "How about being put down like the rabid dog you are? Or, more eloquently, shuffling you loose the mortal coil?"

Ironside stepped over to the boy, and grabbed the handgun, bending it with little effort, despite the absurd amount of strength required.

"The guns all fire blanks anyway. Well, mine doesn't."

Thomas felt the cold steel of the revolver barrel press close against his stomach. He ceased taking in sharp breaths, closing his eyes and awaiting the inevitable. Ironside whispered in the deathly quiet, apparently intrigued.

"You would risk everything… for one person?"

Thomas' voice was clear and strong.

"Every time."

"Goodbye, Thomas."

The blast of the revolver cut across Danville, echoing throughout the streets and buildings, causing several to look up. The noise that followed, however, was far worse – Thomas was screaming, a terrifying yell that sounded like both a newborn baby and a predatory bird. The fatally wounded child writhed about on the floor, tears mixing with blood, but Ironside did not react, instead returning to his desk.

"Don't leave a mess Thomas," he remarked, lighting a cigar.

The shrieking mess contorted nightmarishly, reaching desperately for something. Ironside watched with amusement as it tried to activate something on its wrist. With a flash of blue light the dying child was gone, leaving only dark bloodstains on the carpet behind it. Ironside raised an eyebrow.

"That's one way to clean up, I guess."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh communicator, of which there were many. Adjusting the settings, he spoke into the receiver.

"Ludovico?"

"I'm busy."

"Are the patients secured?"

"Jaw- Yes. All bar one, your Flynn target that's been missing for some time."

Ironside growled.

"Yes, well, after he's caught, I'll be leaving. I'm already packed, the bomb is in with the unnecessary adults, oh, and Mr. Rains has departed our service."

"Permanently? Such a shame, I would have liked to examine that brain of his."

"There's not much to examine."

Both men snorted with laughter, Ironside failing to notice the distinct lack of a key anywhere on his uniform. He eventually cut off Ludovico, and tried to contact his minions.

"Bob."

There was no response.

"Bob, respond. Now."

Static hissed over the frequency, and Ironside growled in anger, squeezing his fist and rendering another communicator useless.

* * *

Doofenshmirtz ran as fast as his scrawny legs would carry him, his experiences of running from goozims finally paying off. His ever-present companion pulled him roughly, as if trying to dislocate his arm. The snarling behind him was a constant reminder of his impending status as prey. The machine was close, looming overhead like a Victorian workhouse from hell.

Perry let loose a smoke grenade behind him, which activated with a faint 'pop', throwing the dogs into a momentary confusion. The platypus kicked at a loose panel, shattering it, and revealing the inner mechanisms of the giant factory. Doofenshmirtz blanched slightly.

"We can't stop now, Perry the Platypus, I'm going to get – Augh!"

Perry violently shoved the doctor through the opening, sending him plummeting into the machine with an over-dramatic yell. The ensuing crash and groans of pain informed Perry that his companion was evidently fine, and he turned to his pursuers.

Tiberius and Caligula came through the grey smoke, snapping at one another as they tried to comprehend their situation. They realized quickly that they were out of the smoke, and turned their huge, leering heads towards the platypus several feet away.

There passed a moment of silence between the animals, as the pack animals stared intently at the strange creature. Perry returned their gazes defiantly. Slowly, more members of the pack emerged from the grey cloud, apparently grinning. The moment had passed, and Perry turned and fled, intent on leading the predators away from Heinz.

The dogs instinctively gave chase, resuming their barking and snarling, completely forgetting that one of their targets had slipped past them.

Doofenshmirtz rose to his feet, narrowly avoiding being crushed by a large gear. He clasped his hands together with a smile.

"Right then. What looks explosive?"

* * *

Ferb had grown accustomed to the dark, oppressive conditions. He had accepted the reality of his situation hours ago, and drifted in and out of consciousness, and in and out of what was real, and what his mind was inventing. The numerous tubes forced down his throat were impossible to become used to, and he spluttered and coughed frequently, spraying his surroundings in materials and liquids he did not want to know about. He thought that there had been some knocking on his prison some time ago, or perhaps even seconds ago – there was no concept of time in the shell. Anger had been boiled and contained some time ago – when, _if_ he got out, no-one was safe.

Something moved in the dark, whirs and clicks snapping him back to reality. A lock rotated, and Ferb felt a flood of relief as the breathing and feeding tubes retracted, allowing him to breathe freely. A crack of light shone through as the capsule began to separate, and Ferb hurried the process, pulling open the entrance with a grunt of pain. The early morning light burned into his eyes, but he stared at it defiantly and stepped out, into freedom. It was time for revenge – on Ironside, but especially Thomas…

And then he saw the blood.

It was everywhere, darkening the floor, seeping throughout – Ferb realized that he was even standing in it. He looked desperately around him for the source, and spotted the small figure lying at the window. Ferb ran towards it desperately, turning it over.

"Thomas!" Ferb's voice was a mixture of both shock and horror.

Black eyes met brown as the child struggled to move his head. Upon seeing Ferb, Thomas managed to smile, bloodstained teeth gritted. Ferb desperately tried to find the wound, knowing he had little time to stop the flow of blood. A hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't… better this way…heh," Thomas groaned. He no longer had enough energy to express his pain, and was merely fading out.

"Why, Thomas?" Ferb said in a small voice, eyes welling up with tears.

"Why? … why anything… I don't know why…"

Ferb felt something pressed into his palm. Looking down he saw the key, as well as a bloodied watch. Ferb made a low sob. Thomas grunted with exertion as he turned his head to look out of the window.

"Aheheh… Your brother's alive…" he whispered, unsure of why he was telling Ferb. "Everybody lives… so far…"

Ferb shook Thomas hard, the distress clear on his face.

"Thomas! Stay! You can't leave…"

Thomas snorted with laughter, spraying dark blood onto the window.

"Makes a change…" He suddenly raised his head a little, noticing something in the distance. His smile broadened. "Look at it, Silent Bob… the sun's rising…"

Cutting though the hills and buildings, the bright rays of sunshine flooded the police station, bathing both children. And with that, Thomas Rains bowed his head forward and died - the whisper of a laugh barely audible.

* * *

_Seven Years Ago, Christmas Day,_

"Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is-!"

The radio cut out as a fork was hurled violently through its centre. The blonde boy laughed happily from his position on the carpet.

"Bull's-eye!"

Ferb groaned in annoyance. Thomas had a tendency to break things whenever he came to the house.

"You broke it," he observed.

"Eh, who cares?" Thomas smiled, turning his attention back to the chess board. "If you don't want to fix it, my dad'll pay for it."

Ferb moved a bishop expertly across, easily removing one of his friend's pawns. He raised an eyebrow, as if to enquire as to Thomas' father's whereabouts. The boy ran a hand through his thick hair, looking angry.

"He's working. And by working, I mean he's got a bottle of whisky, and he's sitting at mum's grave blubbering."

Ferb gave a look of sympathy, but did not pursue the point – Thomas said things like that everyday. With ease, he moved his queen into position.

"Checkmate."

Thomas looked at the board, bewildered. He didn't understand chess particularly well, Ferb knew. He was impulsive, and merely moved the pieces that interested him, ignorant of any strategy or purpose. Thomas whined lowly.

"Lucky I suppose." A smile suddenly appeared on his face. "Got you a present!"

He thrust a badly wrapped box at Ferb, who took it politely. Quickly the wrapping paper was removed, and the box carefully opened, revealing the watch, facing upwards and glinting in the light. Ferb smiled broadly, a rare feat for him.

"Remember we saw them in London?" Thomas said, obviously pleased with himself. "Turns out as long as you have the money, no-one asks any questions!"

"Thanks. Here," Ferb said, holding out a hand-crafted wooden container. Thomas opened it rapidly, and proudly took the watch from its place. It was nearly identical to the one he had given Ferb, built entirely from the green-haired boy's memory. Thomas smiled warmly, but the grin faded as he thought of something.

"Do you think it'll always be like this?"

Ferb couldn't answer, but he knew one thing – Thomas was like a broken watch. No matter the damage done, the watch must be right twice a day. And when Thomas was 'right', he was Ferb's best friend.

* * *

**Thomas Rains was originally little more than an expy of the Invisible Man, and a rather harsh satire on OCs in general, but he's come a long way since then. I leave it open to interpretaion whether or not it's a Redemption Equals Death - he doesn't actually care about anyone else. However, for all his talk of hating people, and the world, in the end, he proves that Rousseau Was Right after all - regardless of the reasoning behind it (and truly epic levels of intentional Foe Yay) he does end up doing some good. Whether or not this redeems him is up to you. The man who talked about madness being an emergency exit was the Joker - here is the original quote:**

**_"Madness is the emergency exit. You can just step outside, and close the door on all those dreadful things that happened. You can lock them away forever."_**

**Until next time.**


	9. Arkham

**Okay, got an apology to make. You know I said there was two chapters to go? Well, Blood and Iron was absurdly long, and it disrupted the sort of pace the story has had up to this point, so I split the chapter in two. However, because I was late updating (slightly sick), Blood and Iron will be released at the normal time, this Sunday. Some of it's already done, so it shouldn't take long.**

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* * *

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The greys of the control room bled into one another in Gretchen's eyes. Although, her lack of sight could have been counted as a blessing, thought Ludovico as he pulled a lever, which forced the operating table upright. The girl struggled futilely, tears of frustration running down her face.

"Patient Number… let's see…" Ludovico flipped through an ancient notebook which bore an infamous symbol. "Six-hundred and sixty-six! That is ominous, isn't it? Okay, name?"

"… Go copulate with yourself…"

Ludovico struck the girl with a gloved hand, anger only visible on his face for a second. His guards winced and looked away, unable to do anything. The doctor pushed his glasses back up his nose, scribbling furiously in his book.

"I know it anyway… Gretchen… thingy… whats-it-called…" He glanced up, having remembered something. "During the experiment, please make your opinions and feelings known - remember, this is for posterity, so... be honest."

Gretchen stopped struggling, hanging her head in defeat. The world appeared as a huge blur, but she could make out the shape of her captor. The man would normally pose no threat to a Fireside Girl, but she was worse than useless now. Her Chief had taught her better than this.

"Why… are you doing this?"

The notebook snapped shut in surprise.

"Why not, my dear? I assume Ironside does it out of some idealism – he's all about the brainwashing thing… The other one, he does it for fun, I believe, and to get the Fletcher boy's attention. Me? I'm a man with time on his hands." He frowned at the girl, like a disapproving teacher. "I was not much older than you when I began all this… I had a great mentor, but we disagreed over the 'perfect human' – he merely thought of a racial ideal, which was fine I suppose…"

"It was evil, you decrepit-!"

"I'm talking. Anyway, you can pursue that sort of thing easily, but do you know what's wrong with people? They're just not symmetrical! When you look for perfection, it should mean perfection!"

Gretchen paled as she heard various implements being moved around.

"The Chief… will save me…" she said defiantly, hoping to distract her captor and gain more time.

"Ah yes, Miss Garcia-Shapiro. I read her file. Don't know how you can take orders from that. But you're getting me off topic, my dear! I need to talk you through procedure! There is no anaesthetic, so you won't miss anything, and I can easily keep you alive. You see, Ironside wants order to be represented mentally – a uniform allegiance. I want to depict it physically, and independently. Relax. The doctor will make you perfect."

Ludovico was so involved in his speech that he did not notice the various 'Intruder Alert' warnings flashing on the console.

* * *

Candace crouched in the alleyway, frowning as Isabella pointed out the various flaws in her plans. Her makeshift map of the town square was remade again and again, with her two companions in confusion as to which item was supposed to be which building. The frown became even more exaggerated as Isabella stepped on 'town hall' accidentally.

"Okay girlie – off the map!"

Isabella respectfully took a step backwards, but continued her criticisms.

"If these 'troops' of yours show up, and that's a big 'if', command should be handed to me – I actually have experience in this stuff."

"Phineas?" Candace said. "Back me up here."

Phineas was uncharacteristically quiet, and elected to look upwards and twiddle his thumbs as if he hadn't heard.

"See?" Isabella said, smirking.

"He's clearly on my side!"

"Nu-uh."

Candace brought up her communicator, confident that she could prove herself. She spoke into it, not caring if Ironside was listening or not.

"Bob?"

"Howdy!"

"One, never say that again, or I'll start with the 'Canada, eh?' Two, I'm turning myself in. I'm at…"

"We know where you are."

The three fugitives exchanged puzzled looks.

"How?"

"Because we're right behind you."

The crowd of Smile Away alumni flooded into the small alleyway, surrounding the group easily. Most stared, detached from the actual event, but Bob stepped forward, his face continually changing between two emotions – happiness at seeing familiar faces, and guilt at the fact that he was going to have to murder them with meat hooks, as the orders dictated. He stopped before them.

"Hey!" he said, pointing at Isabella and Phineas. "You made it! Oh, by the way, Candace? We're gonna have to kill you now, but if you want to off yourself beforehand, I wouldn't blame you."

Candace merely smiled and gestured to the scraps of the Major's uniform that she wore.

"Nah, I outrank you, and Ironside. From now on, we do what I say."

The crowd scratched their heads as Bob voiced their opinion.

"So… we're free?"

The communicator angrily burst into life.

"NO YOU ARE MOST CERTAINLY NOT! Kill her! She spouts lies!"

"Too late, _Gunnery Sergeant_," Candace said calmly. "They're mine, and so are you. All of you are hereby forbidden to take orders from anyone other than me, Phineas or Isabella. Ironside, the creepy English kid, and the slimy Nazi guy are stripped of their rank!"

Ironside's line went silent, and there was a general murmur among the crowd. Bob engaged in a group huddle, whispering to several others. After a while, he turned with a smile.

"We can live with that."

Candace inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and returned to her makeshift map. Isabella touched her lightly on the shoulder.

"I was wrong, I guess. Sorry Candace. You are capable."

"We don't know that yet. Phineas – battle plans."

Phineas stood in front of the map, pointing at various landmarks with a stick.

"Okay, we have two targets… umm, might wanna turn of your communicators."

Everyone, including Candace shuffled awkwardly, turning off the devices with rather sheepish looks.

"Ahem… yeah, two targets – one, the big workhouse machine…"

"Alice!"

"Okay, Alice – the kids are being held there, as far as we know. The second target is more dangerous – we need to rescue the adults, but they're being held in town hall – near, uh, Ironside. To maximise confusion among any remaining opposition, we'll want to attack simultaneously – we'll split the force sixty/forty, 'cause we'll need to help all of the kids out."

"I'll go to the machine," Isabella said.

"Okay, then me and Phineas will rescue our parents," Candace replied.

"Actually, Candace…" Phineas said nervously. "I'd rather go with Isabella, if that's all right…"

"Ugh, fine," Candace said, rolling her eyes. "Bob – you're with me."

"Hooray!"

"Okay people – let's get our war faces on."

* * *

Perry was still running – an incredible feat for a mammal so awkwardly proportioned. Sweat seemingly made of milk trailed behind him, infuriating his pursuers. Perry knew that he was headed out of town, but he had a plan in mind. Or, rather, a hastily thought out idea. His feet experienced a sudden, jarring pain, and he was flung into the air, landing on a cold steel surface. Knowing exactly where he was, he began to scramble up the side, like a spider in a bathtub. Behind him, the dogs stopped at the lip of the steel trench, baying furiously.

A dog covered in dirt struggled towards them, pushing Tiberius out of the way and resuming leadership – Caesar had dug itself through solid concrete to rejoin the pack. The other dogs sniffed at the old leader cautiously, and then returned to staring at their platypus quarry, who had reached the other side.

Perry looked back and taunted the dogs with a smile.

Surrender, growled Caesar, having difficulty with cross-species communication. And we'll kill you before we eat you.

Perry made a rude gesture across the trench, and the dogs looked at each other. Caesar narrowed its eyes and stepped forward into the trench, followed nervously by the rest of the pack. The dogs began to make excited noises as they realised the platypus had nowhere to go.

"Ctrtrtrt…" Perry chattered, and turned the wheel that he was standing beside.

The dogs froze, some of them beginning to form insults about Perry's mother before the Metropolitan Oval Aquatic Trench flooded and titanic waves crashed into them at high speed, dragging them away with pained screaming.

Perry allowed himself to catch his breath.

* * *

Phineas and Isabella ran up the steps of the terrible machine, a unit of Smile Away alumni dutifully following. The interior was almost pitch black, the productivity gently coming to an end – a bare minimum of children wandered the claustrophobic halls, looking at the intruders with almost no interest. Phineas and Isabella both peered curiously at the centre of the factory – what appeared to be steel sarcophagi were arranged in tight formation.

"What are these?" Phineas asked.

"Child Containment Capsules," a boy said blankly. "They contain children. In capsules."

"Are there kids in right now?" Phineas asked, concerned.

"Affirmative. They can, however, be transported, and can also be released via the control room."

"Should we move them then?"

Isabella rubbed the bridge of her nose, and gestured to the unit.

"You guys stay here, and wait for us to come back. We'll go to the control room."

Phineas wondered why he seemed to have no choice in matters anymore, but took off at a light run anyway, taking Isabella by the hand and heading up more stairs to an ominous overhanging observation room. Phineas opened the door, and the pair ran in, expecting to find merely machinery.

Instead, thick glass descended on all sides, trapping the two in a tiny transparent cell. The harsh light of the control room contrasted heavily with the gloom visible through the observation windows. Isabella gasped.

"Gretchen!"

The Fireside Girl turned her head almost lazily, only seeing a faint blur where her friends stood. An old man hobbled into view, leaning on a cane with one gloved hand, while the other held an open file.

"Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, by Thomas Rains," Ludovico read aloud. "The spelling is quite poor here, so forgive me. 'Xion is a horrible person, but a dangerous fighter. A capable leader 'aheheh' and a loyal ally to the Flynn-Fletchers.' He did not mention your religion, the stupid boy. I suppose he thought it didn't matter."

Phineas placed a hand on the glass, tensing ever so slightly.

"Let us out, and let Gretchen go."

Ludovico flipped through the file, finding the page he required.

"Phineas Flynn. Thomas notes here that you are 'pale, ginger and not particularly attractive. Either asexual or sexually frozen, does not realise that Xion wants him to…' Oh dear…" muttered Ludovico, realising that the notes went into far too much detail about something called 'rogering'. He threw the file aside and hobbled up to the glass. "You know, Mister Flynn, we have a lot in common. We are both men who shun the normal and mundane of everyday life, electing to pursue great achievements."

"Who are you?" Phineas asked.

"It's just Ludovico. I'm afraid my reputation precedes me – forgive me for not disclosing my real name. You have a lot of potential boy – I've seen these inventions of yours. If you could only…"

Isabella tried to fit a hand through one of the cell air holes, attempting to strangle the doctor.

"You have one of my people, you sick-!"

The cane was brought down sharply on her outstretched fingers, and Isabella let out a cry of pain, while Phineas' eyes flashed like steel.

"Your people?" Ludovico said smugly. "I see no comradeship between you two. Different gene pools, my dear. Different classes of gene pools."

Isabella noticed that her hand was being squeezed tightly, and saw that Phineas was clenching his fists, possibly for the first time ever. Ludovico turned away from his captives, throwing his communicator away as he did so. He no longer cared about Ironside's plans. He was beyond Ironside now. Now he could do anything he…

A man whistled happily as he backed his way into the room, uncoiling a long reel of wire, apparently oblivious to proceedings. His slippers squeaked noisily on the cold floor, and everyone watched in confusion as he approached the control panel, attaching the wire to a small port on the control panel.

"…bye bye, Miss American Pie, drove my…"

"Excuse me?" Ludovico said politely, while the three children merely stared. "Hello?"

Doofenshmirtz looked round with disinterest.

"Trying to blow this up, you know. I need quiet for that."

Ludovico twitched, and then let out a burst of anger.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Heinz Doofenshmirtz. And I believe this is my Tri-State Area."

Ludovico shook away his confusion with a grunt of anger, and grabbed his cane with both hands. There was a click and the hum of metal on metal as the old man unsheathed a rapier from within the cane, wielding it expertly.

"And this, my homeless friend, is my machine. Get out."

"Who is that guy?" whispered Phineas.

"Didn't catch his name," Isabella said with a shrug.

"Oh, you're responsible for this?" Heinz said, taking an interest.

"Of course! I am the genius of Druselstein, the apprentice of the Todesengel, and the architect of order!" Ludovico pointed the sword under Heinz' chin, as the children held their breath.

Doofenshmirtz casually brushed the blade aside and punched Ludovico in the face with all of his strength, sending the frail old man hurtling against the glass cell, cracking his head and sliding to the floor with an undignified squeal.

"No," said Heinz. "You're a broken old genocidal scumbag who can barely lift a sword. And this is for my daughter."

Ludovico was moving slightly, reaching out with a shaking hand. Heinz brought the rapier down through the old man's wrist, angrily baring his teeth as the screams of pain met his ears. Phineas and Isabella looked away in horror, but Gretchen unfortunately did not have that luxury.

"Excuse me? Sir?" Gretchen said, trembling. "Could you let us out please?"

There was a quick flurry of buttons being pressed and the glass cell suddenly lifted, and Gretchen's restraints clicked open. The children stepped forward with some relief. Gretchen latched onto Isabella immediately, embracing the only authority figure she could trust.

"What are you doing?" Phineas asked the man in his dressing gown. "There are still kids in here! Downstairs!"

Heinz swore under his breath.

"There are kids in those things?"

With a renewed speed, the doctor pressed at numerous keys and switches, to be met each time with blaring refusal. Heinz slammed a fist on the control panel in frustration. On one of the computer screens, a bobble headed image of Ludovico waved a finger, a smug grin on his features.

"Ah ah ah, you didn't say the magic word. Ah ah ah…"

"PLEASE! It needs some sort of key to…"

A flash of blue light filled the control room, and Ferb stepped out into the light, dressed in a bloodied and tattered trench coat. Wordlessly, he held out a key, indifferent to everyone's shocked reactions.

"I don't know what's happening here," Doofenshmirtz said. "But I can work with it."

The doctor snatched the key from Ferb's hand and hastily inserted it into the machine. There was a loud chorus of machinery, which were soon joined by the distressed cries of children.

"What happened to your glasses Gretchen?"

"Ow… a bald degenerate happened."

At this, Ferb turned somewhat angrily, and made as if to say something. Gretchen herself did not notice, but Phineas placed a hand on Ferb's shoulder.

"Ferb! Are you alright? We got…"

A sudden blaring alarm echoed around the room, a circular red light flashing over dramatically. Phineas widened his eyes.

"What have you done?"

"I reversed the polarity of the neutron flow," said Doofenshmirtz, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "The explosion will be clichéd, but cool nonetheless."

"We're still in here!"

Heinz' face fell slightly, and he bolted from the room, desperately searching for his daughter, and letting out a stream of grating yells. Phineas looked calmly at his brother.

"You just gonna warp us out?"

Ferb shook his head and pointed downstairs.

"Aw crap, the kids!" Isabella shouted.

The group instinctively ran towards the door, but halted at a noise. Ludovico was struggling to his feet, rapier still impaling his wrist.

"Please…" he said, looking directly at Phineas. "You wouldn't leave me to die…"

Phineas thought for a moment.

"No. I wouldn't. Isabella, offer him your hand."

Isabella held out her hand unquestioningly, but Ludovico recoiled in horror, as if she were diseased. Phineas shrugged.

"Not making a new offer," he remarked coldly, and turned away. The other children followed him out.

The Smile Away children stood around in confusion, supporting their former captives with what little strength they had. Isabella slid down the banisters, yelling orders.

"Come on! On your feet people! We are leaving!"

The crowd did not need a second telling, darting towards the exit. Among the crowd, Heinz was carrying his daughter in his arms, functioning solely on a parents' desire to protect. The crowd funnelled desperately through the exit, and an explosion rang out in the bowels of the machine. Isabella and Gretchen went out first, and Phineas and Ferb made sure everyone was out before they hurried down the steps. As they reached the ground, a chain of explosions rang out, and the great machine 'Alice' crumbled, shaking large pieces of machinery into the streets, and eventually, it collapsed in on itself, ending Smile Away's hold over the children of Danville. Phineas helped Isabella to her feet, while remarking,

"I suppose that was kinda fun. Wonder how Candace is doing?"

The shriek of pain that rang out louder than the explosions answered his question for him.

* * *

Ludovico staggered about in the collapsing control room, hitting numerous switches, searching for one of his many escape routes. With some amount of luck, a passage opened in the wall. He grinned, and began to hobble towards it.

Slowly, he realised that his grin was slightly frozen. Raising a hand to his face, he was horrified to discover that it was slightly lopsided. He looked around desperately as something travelled the course of his spine. He hit the ground hard, paralysed and helpless. He could not even scream.

And the flames were getting closer.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! The brief dialogue from Caesar is meant to be like that by the way - any Discworld readers will recognise it as the speech of the Auditors - you don't need to know this at all, though. As you can tell, I fairly enjoyed killing off Ludovico. His whole Nazi backstory had previously been an excercise in Getting Crap Past the Radar, but here it allowed me to have a conflict between two Germanic figures - Ludovico, the Nazi, the racist, the torturer, and Heinz, who regardless of his supposed 'evilness' is a genuinely good person who would despise the usual stereotypes associated with Germans. Originally, Isabella fought Ludovico in a sword fight - I changed this after I remembered that, as cool as it was, the story is not titled 'Isabella's Many Moments of Awesome'. See you next time!**


	10. Blood and Iron

**A little late updating - apologies. But anyway, here is ze grand showdown! The fight to top all fights, a day that will live in infamy! Ham aside, here ya go.**

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* * *

**

Candace opened the door to town hall, cautiously peering around the door. The door suddenly swung open as her fat companion tried to do the same thing, and ended up flat on his face. Candace stepped over him without concern and edged her way down the hall, silent for once. Bob picked himself up and hurried after her.

A sudden noise caused the group of intruders to freeze, slowly turning round to pinpoint the source. Ferb was standing in the centre of the hall, staring at them. Candace looked at him quizzically.

"How did you get out?" she whispered.

Ferb held up a key.

"Others?" he mumbled.

Bob pointed outside and Ferb disappeared in a flash of light. There was a moment of silence as Candace and Bob looked at each other.

"Was he… wearing Thomas' clothes?" Bob asked, looking confused.

"That's… just weird."

The group returned to their previous task, and stealthily approached the door to the meeting hall. The door creaked open, and Candace gasped in horror.

The adults were still in place, kept in their seats, but they were all unconscious, draped over one another. Candace lost her heroic demeanour for a moment.

"Mom?"

Linda did not move. Candace shook her by the shoulders, tears beginning to well up. She was interrupted by a cough.

"What?" she said, rather dangerously.

Bob looked rather sheepish, standing on the stage and shuffling his feet slightly. Candace followed his gaze to the strange contraption surrounding much of the stage. It looked like piles upon piles of oil drums, but they seemed to be connected by what looked like wire. It was making a low noise, almost clockwork-like.

"What's that?"

Bob looked at her in amazement.

"What does it look like? It's an explosive!"

This information took a while to reach Candace's brain. She stood on the spot, babbling under her breath. Eventually, she spoke.

"Can we defuse it?"

Bob examined the device, prodding it with a finger and wincing. When nothing happened, he moved in closer, intimidated by its dark presence. It continued to emit a strange noise.

"Here's the thing…" Bob began. "Bombs aren't meant to be defused, and I have no idea how they work in the slightest. Anything we do could set it off."

Candace swore.

"Well is there a timer or something?"

"Evidently not. I'll contact the manufacturer and tell them they should include those on future explosives."

"All right, ha ha. How do we get them out of danger then?"

The adults dozed in their drugged state, blissfully unaware of their impending liquidation. Bob stared blankly, and Candace pulled at her hair in frustration. It was clumsy, and it was inelegant and it was slow, but there was only one way out. She turned to her followers, shouting orders quickly.

"Break them out of there! Carry them out! I don't care how long it takes us! Go!"

The Smile Away students leapt unquestioningly to work – if they could not unlock restraints, they simply broke the chairs and hoisted the occupant over a shoulder, often requiring two of them to carry one adult. Bob swallowed nervously.

"Haven't seen the boss for some time," he observed.

* * *

Ironside carried his suitcase towards the helicopter, where a man leaned against the stationary vehicle smoking a cigarette. The pilot was greeted with the suitcase being thrown towards him – he caught it, smiling at his commander.

"Time to leave then?" he said, flicking his cigarette away.

Ironside leaned forward over the top of city hall, gazing down at his work. There were strange noises coming from the huge machine he called 'Alice'. He sniffed at the air, and followed it up with a growl.

"It was about symbolism, Jeff."

"Sir?"

"If we'd captured Flynn, everything would have worked out, and we'd have brought down the symbol of everything creative. Instead, due to a spanner in the works, we've merely brought the children to heel. They wouldn't break, no matter what. Had to imprison them. Doesn't hold quite the same level of symbolism, does it?"

Jeff shot Ironside a contemptuous look behind his back. The dejected mood of his boss gave him the courage to speak out.

"You hired Rains."

"What do you mean by that?" Ironside sighed, still looking out over Danville.

"You planned this meticulously over the years and refused to change it in the slightest! So you turned to someone you didn't fully understand, he cocked up everything, and you just sat on your throne expecting things to work out for the best because you planned them that way!"

Ironside shot a warning glance over his shoulder, but Jeff was not particularly worried – the man needed a pilot.

A sudden explosion rang out, and both men looked towards the great machine before them, which was disintegrating before their eyes. Children were pouring out of the exit, free and safe. Smile Away jumpsuits could be seen among them. Jeff turned to Ironside, who was staring ahead.

"Sir – we should go now. Get out of here."

Ironside thought for something to say. Millions of possibilities passed through his head as he watched his life's work burst into flames. He could have said something like 'Well played, worthy opponent,' or 'Oh well, Tahiti looks good this time of year'. He said none of these things. Instead, he casually shot Jeff through the head and threw him off the roof, to land with a sickening crunch on the pavement below.

He checked his revolver, a six-shooter. There were four bullets left. He would make them count.

His attention was drawn to a procession leading out of city hall – the adults were escaping. A flash of red hair caught his eye.

"Miss Flynn." Ironside took in deep breaths, expelling them as angered growls. A vein in his temple started to throb badly, and he almost crushed the revolver in his hand. "I'll kill her. I'LL KILL HER!"

He stormed back inside the building, leaving the helicopter sitting untouched on the landing pad. On the street below, beside Jeff's corpse, the suitcase had burst open, the papers inside blowing out into the wind, many drifting straight into the fire in the centre of the square. Everything – motives, rationalisations, explanations – everything Ironside had worked for was lost in a moment, gone forever. And he did not care.

* * *

The group ran back inside to retrieve the last few adults, heavily aware of an unknown time limit. Candace wished that the bomb had some sort of warning as to when it would go off, but the low noise always stayed at the same pace, which was infuriating. She half-hoped that this was another one of Ironside's grand schemes, and that the bomb was filled with marzipan and kittens, or was just a plain old fake. However, Candace was a realist.

"Hurry up!" she shrieked, rather ineffectively, as the group were doing the best they could.

"Ew," Bob muttered, sticking his head out from a room he had been searching. "It smells like Thomas in here."

"Get back to work!"

"Okay! …at home to mister tetchy…"

Candace hit her head off of the wall in frustration.

"Zebra."

The zebra materialised, looking very afraid.

"Uh, hey Kevin," it stuttered. "Listen… uh, it's been fun and all, but I'm going to disappear now…"

"What? Why?"

There came the sound of something thundering down the steps from the mayor's office. The zebra grinned nervously – or at least, gave the impression of grinning – it was a zebra after all.

"See you later Kevin!"

"Argh! Come back you dirty coward!"

"Uh, Candace?" said Bob.

"WHAT?"

"You're, eh, talking to thin air."

Candace blinked and remembered where she was.

"Oh… right."

"That's the last of them," Bob said, picking his nose due to slight boredom. Candace wondered how anyone could be bored in such a situation. "We should probably get out now, what with the whole exploding, and the running and the screaming."

"That's probably a good idea."

"Too late!" snarled Ironside. "This town is mine, and so are you!"

The drill sergeant crashed into sight, breaking through a doorframe with relative ease and wearing an expression on his face that Candace noted as 'Not A Happy Bunny'. In one massive hand he gripped a revolver, which he fired once. With an angry whistling sound, the bullet passed through Candace's hair and struck the bomb behind them. All three glanced at the device, which had stopped making a noise.

"I recommend running," said Bob.

Candace grabbed her assistant and sprinted as fast as she could, bearing in mind that outrunning explosions was terribly clichéd. Bob was very heavy and was slowing her down, but regardless, she dragged him towards the exit. As she reached the first step, the building seemed to shake, and then a huge explosion followed, the bomb seemingly becoming a ball of flame that rushed outwards. Already being outside, Candace and Bob were shielded from the blast somewhat, and merely tumbled down the cracking steps of city hall, with Candace's dignified shrieking accompanying them the whole way. They landed in a heap at the bottom with a 'splat'.

"Ugh," Candace groaned, blinking through the light smoke encircling them. "Never. Again."

"Thomas was right," Bob observed. "I am pretty fat – it absorbed pretty much all of that fall."

"Get. Off. Me."

Candace grunted and shoved her companion away, allowing herself the luxury of moving into a seated position.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Familiar figures appeared through the smoke, and one triangular head loomed into view first, looking fairly concerned.

"We heard you screaming. You all right?" Phineas asked.

"I have various bruises, my head hurts, this is the second big fall I've had in like two hours and I've lost my zebra." Candace rounded off.

"She's fine," Gretchen reported bluntly.

"Are you okay, by the way?" Isabella asked Phineas.

"I'm fine, thanks," Phineas replied, a little offended that everyone seemed to think he was so defenceless and puny.

"Hey dinner bell!" a voice called out, from further back. "What's going on?"

Candace looked up, annoyed.

"Hello? Big damn hero here? Saved the adults? Pretty much single handed?"

"Hey!"

"And Bob was there too," Candace admitted out of the side of her mouth. "Hey, Ferb, why are you dressed like that?"

Ferb glanced down at the tattered trench-coat and jumpsuit, but said nothing, much to everyone's confusion. Isabella tried to compensate for the awkward silence by asking a question that had been on her mind for a while now.

"What did you do to Ironside, Candace?" she asked cheerily. "Did ya kill him?"

Candace frowned in confusion.

"What? No, I…"

"Did he escape?" Phineas asked worriedly.

"No, he…"

"Did he turn into a big tentacle monster?" Some anonymous person shouted from the back.

"What?" Candace squawked. "I only saw him briefly – he got caught in the explosion. He's dead."

Isabella changed moods instantly, frowning out of annoyance and anger.

"Did you see a body?"

"No…"

Isabella swore, and explained to her friends.

"Fireside Girl number two – if there isn't a body, it's not dead. You should know that Candace," she added.

"Oh, like I was going to check!"

"Smoke's clearing," murmured Bob. "That's not good."

The black smoke was indeed darting away, as if it were afraid of something. The white, broken steps became visible once again as a path slowly opened through the dark, until there was only a black cloud at the top of the steps. The cloud faded away as Ironside stood up, completely unharmed. There was almost no soot on his uniform – he looked exactly as he had before the explosion, complete with revolver still clenched in a fist. He casually walked down the steps and fired his revolver once, shooting Candace directly through the shoulder. She screamed out, and most of the children ran in terror from this walking nightmare.

Phineas, Ferb and Isabella stared in shock, frozen in sheer horror. Ironside completed his stroll down the steps, and grabbed Candace by the neck, bringing her up to eye-level.

"You ruined everything, you pale little scumbag…" his grip tightened on her throat, and alarm flashed through the pain clear in her eyes. Ironside smiled. "I'm not going to strangle you…"

He threw Candace to the ground and stamped twice, to be met with more screams of pain. The revolver came up and pointed at the teenager's head.

"Any other time, any other scenario, Miss Flynn," Ironside lamented with a smile, "We could have got along famously."

The revolver never fired however – Isabella sank her teeth into the man's wrist, and he snarled in annoyance, swinging his arm back, dropping the gun and shaking his attacker loose. He turned, ready to eliminate the new threat, and Ferb ran up his back, clawing viciously at anything he could reach. Ironside felt a searing pain in one of his eyes, and reached out desperately, losing sight. Bob took his chance and put all of his strength into a massive kick between Ironside's legs. The drill sergeant grunted briefly and swiped Bob aside, meanwhile reaching up and pulling the English boy from his shoulders, holding him in one hand. Isabella resumed her attack, jumping and hitting her much larger opponent several times in the face.

Eventually Phineas joined the bizarre assault, latching onto Ironside's arm in an attempt to free his brother. Ironside finally let out an actual yell of pain as all of his attackers targeted his face. A snarl of defiance erupted from the man and he shook all of his opponents off, still holding Ferb.

"Oh, look," he snarled, through copious amounts of blood. "It's Thomas' little bitch."

"I have your gun," Ferb said simply, and wrestled an arm free.

The gunshot echoed across the town, signalling the end of the fight. Ferb dropped to the ground and was noisily sick against the steps. Ironside grunted slightly, glancing at the wound in his side. He allowed himself a smile, knowing that it was non-fatal, but sank to his knees in a rare show of genuine pain. He looked up at the three children approaching him, and heard the distant approach of helicopters.

"Ha ha ha…" His words came through in between gasps of pain. "Symbols, you see… all about symbols…"

Phineas coldly took the revolver from Ferb's hand, and pressed it against the man's head.

"Do it." Ironside smiled. "Prove my point – people are dangerous and violent from birth, and need to be controlled. Ha. Either side you take in this, that's what people will see."

Something stirred in Phineas and he finally vented everything he had been building up about his ordeal.

"ENOUGH! You evil piece of filth! That's what all of this was for? A stupid message to the world? Everything you stand for is pure nonsense! All of this… this suffering, death, destruction… all so you could make some sort of point! I've seen people die tonight. I've seen people do horrible things, and I've watched good people suffer. But you – you are the only person who deserves it! Hell is too good for you!"

"Then shoot me," Ironside said simply. "But regardless of what you do, it won't change anything. It's still a horrible existence. Where people kill, steal and mutilate for no reason at all. I was going to control it from the source. Enjoy your pitiful little existence."

Phineas lowered the revolver, and Ferb and Isabella looked at one another in confusion. The boy smiled coldly and handed Ironside the gun. Sirens began to sound in the distance, and on the grass, adults began to stir. Children slowly appeared again, watching cautiously.

"No. You shoot me. Prove your point. But you'll have to shoot me in the back. Come on."

Phineas walked away, towards his injured sister who Bob was watching over, blinking back tears. Ironside pointed the gun at the departing figure.

"You think I won't? You smug son of a…"

No-one was listening to him. Ferb and Isabella followed Phineas, taking care not to look at the increasingly pathetic figure bleeding heavily on the steps. Ironside suddenly took notice of the sirens and helicopters growing ever closer, and understood what the boy had done. There was only one bullet.

"I will not become a bear to be baited… paraded around like some goddamned war criminal… and martyrdom is not a certainty." He looked up at the sun emerging from behind a cloud and growled in distaste. "I'll be waiting for you in hell, Flynn."

The gunshot made most of the children flinch, including Phineas as he examined the unconscious Candace's wounds. Ferb smiled grimly, and Isabella looked at Phineas, concerned for him as always.

"How did you know he'd do that?" Isabella asked.

"I didn't," Phineas said, and finally allowed himself to cry.

Vehicles were beginning to pull up around the building, and numerous groups of military personnel filed out, accompanied by what looked like the Red Cross. The adults slowly blinked themselves awake, straightening up and running to their children, everything else forgotten. Linda and Lawrence, as well as Isabella's mother, were there in a heartbeat, embracing their children. Lawrence paled as he saw Candace, and signalled immediately for medical attention. The families held onto one another tightly for support, as paramedics approached the scene.

A group of Smile Away students had formed around Ironside's corpse, which was still kneeling, but with head drooping towards the ground.

"We're free…" Bob realised.

"No more Smile Away," another child muttered.

"We can go home, then?"

"Do we have parents?" one small boy asked, looking lonely and scared.

Bob dealt the fallen drill sergeant a powerful kick, and knocked the body down the last few steps. The Smile Away children spat contemptuously on their former master. Bob smiled.

"Let's find out."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! It's been great writing this actually, and I still have to wrap everything up in the next chapter, but there you go. Throughout the story, I gave Ironside somewhat supernatural surroundings - impossibly strong and almost unstoppable, because he is basically a nightmare, and the children have to face it alone, as it directly threatens them. Despite Candace's war against Ironside, it always had to be Phineas to confront the sergeant, because, well, they're complete opposites - one believes in humanity and is fun personified, the other is pure malice and thinks humans are bastards. Anyway, see you round.**


	11. Auld Lang Syne

**Ah, the final chapter. It's been great guys. This chapter may as well be called Hugs All Round: Ending Fatigue. At the time of writing, 35 reviews - I'm flattered, honestly.**

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* * *

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"AH!" Phineas yelled, bolting upright in the bed, oblivious to the cliché. He blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the light streaming in from the window. A glance around the strange room told him that he was alone. Suddenly, the events of the past three days flooded back into his mind, and he sighed, having hoped that the whole ordeal had been a nightmare. Then again, he thought, you could not have nightmares about nightmares. The doctor, the drill sergeant – it had been real, there was no doubt about that.

He slid out of the hotel bed and stumbled over to a note on the dressing table. Fumbling to grasp it several times, he finally raised the paper up to his face and skimmed it.

_Phineas, Ferb – Your father and I have gone to see about the house. Going to see Candace at 3pm – please meet us there (Ward 42, remember?), it would mean a lot to her. Be back soon. PS – Phineas, Isabella's looking for you. Look after Ferb for me. Mom._

Phineas was not as distraught as a child might have been at the destruction of his family home – although the sight of it had been heartbreaking, the damage was something he could easily rectify, and Perry had found them despite the absence of their house. He would visit Candace as asked, and probably bring her one of those Ducky Momo collectibles she thought no-one knew about. Phineas was incredibly proud of his sister – despite two broken legs and a gunshot wound to the shoulder, the previous day she had attempted to 'bust' her brothers by rolling her bed out into the reception and out the front door. The nurses were not amused, and Linda and Lawrence fretted, but Phineas was happy to see his sister so quickly returned to a neurotic state. Of course, he thought glumly, she would still be in a wheelchair when she got out of hospital, and for some time.

He paused over Isabella's name, a brief moment of clarity looming towards him. He had kissed her – that had happened. He should…

The moment passed, and Phineas wondered why Isabella was looking for him. She had been consistently amazing throughout the entire coup – he would make it up to her, perhaps with a few days' projects centred around her. That was how Phineas celebrated things.

There was a strange feeling in his stomach, and he grimaced, turning on the television to take his mind off of the irritation. The news-reader appeared on the screen, shuffling notes.

"…Police have been unable to identify the man other than the name Ironside – there are no records or photographs of the man other than a blurred picture taken in the early days of the Smile Away investigation. Parents are reminded that therapists have been assigned to children and that children should attend these appointments. In a related story, the bounty for war criminal Doctor Josef Lorre, or 'Ludovico' was collected today by some sort of pharmacist, who proceeded to donate the reward money to the repair of City Hall, claiming that 'it's not a good deed – it benefits me, so it's neutral'."

"Aw, we were gonna rebuild City Hall," Phineas murmured.

"Smile Away tribute websites have been springing up since the incident, and some parents' groups have condemned the sites as 'shockingly insensitive'. Other parent groups have sided with these sites, stating that: 'in order to protect our children from danger, we must shield them from danger'. More on that later. In other news, production has come to a halt on the new Jane Eyre, after the actress playing her was discovered to be a werewolf…"

Phineas shrugged and switched off the distraction, remembering that Ferb was not in the room. He knew where his brother would be, though.

As he nimbly hopped down the steps into the hotel lobby, Phineas grinned at the sudden calling of a familiar phrase.

"Hey Phineas! Whatcha doin?"

Isabella leaned against one of the pillars, no longer in full Fireside Girl attire, having returned to her civilian clothes. She ran up, embracing the surprised boy, who froze awkwardly for a moment before returning the hug.

"I'm going to find Ferb, you want to come?"

Isabella fell in step, still smiling broadly.

"Do you know where he is?"

"I have an idea – you heard about Thomas, right?"

Isabella's face fell instantly.

"Yeah… I, uh," she stammered slightly, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't know what to think about that…"

Phineas looked at her curiously.

"He did something good, Isabella," he said, before adding, "You're meant to forgive him."

Isabella pinched the bridge of her nose. She had hoped the conversation was going to touch on their brief kiss, but apparently Thomas was killing the moment from beyond the grave.

"I know… I feel like I should, but I can't forgive him. Not after what he did. I know he was sick, and I know he was abused… but that doesn't change anything. I feel sorry for the little boy, not for the crazed monster he became." Isabella glanced at Phineas, looking worried. "Does that make me a bad person?"

Phineas brushed a hair from her face, shaking his head.

"Nah, I understand. But you must be able to see the good side of all of this," he looked rather excited by his words. "If Thomas could act for the benefit of others, it shows that, maybe, things aren't as bad as I thought they were."

"Are you gonna start singing the Circle of Life or something?" Isabella asked with a grin. Phineas scratched his ear in embarrassment.

"No, I… My point is, people are inherently good, see? It proves all of Ironside's theories wrong!"

"I thought you were really brave by the way," Isabella said comfortingly.

"Ha! All I did was hold onto you while you saved our lives multiple times! If anyone deserves recognition, it's you."

They were passing the graveyard when Phineas stopped, gazing up the hill. Isabella turned round, and followed his line of sight.

"Did you know he'd be up there?"

"Not this early," Phineas said, running his fingers through his hair. "I'll go talk to him. You coming?"

Isabella shook her head slowly. Phineas understood, and walked into the graveyard, leaving his friend standing on the pavement. As soon as he was gone, the Fireside Girls appeared from nowhere in particular, one of them holding a struggling burlap sack.

"He mention it, chief?" Gretchen asked cautiously.

"No," Isabella murmured.

"Knew it!" Adyson exclaimed, while dropping the bag on the ground. A yell of protest came from within.

"Are you all right?" Gretchen asked, adjusting her new glasses.

"I'm fine," sighed the chief. "That's how you know we're back on the old routine, huh? Me being ignored…" She suddenly brightened. "But he kissed me!"

The Fireside Girls squealed, some out of genuine happiness for Isabella, and in Adyson's case, out of sarcasm. Isabella drew her attention to the squirming bag on the floor. With a swift motion, she cut the rope sealing it, and Suzy Johnson tumbled out, cursing on a level that would have made Al Swearengen blush. The Fireside Girls grinned, and Isabella knelt down beside the captive.

"There are not many people that can get past Fireside Girl security," she said quietly. "We know it was you…"

"Heh, bubbles!" said Suzy, attempting to feign innocence as usual.

"Very clever." Isabella leaned in close. "We're watching you, Johnson. One step out of line from now on and…"

Adyson made a cutting motion across her neck, and Suzy turned very white. With a sudden burst of speed, the small girl was gone, running home to cry to her mother. There was a pause, and Isabella gazed back up at the graveyard. Gretchen noticed her sad face.

"Chief, he's just nervous. He'll notice one day."

"Alternatively," Adyson deadpanned, "You could get attention by pulling a Disney actress stunt and get put in rehab. It's all the rage these days."

Isabella laughed and turned back to her friends and subordinates.

"So," said Adyson calmly. "What are we doing today?"

* * *

Thomas Rains

1st August 1999 – 5th August 2010

Stop All the Clocks

Ferb knew Phineas was there, but made no effort to acknowledge his presence, electing instead to stare at the ground. Phineas sat down on the grass behind him, at a respectful distance. Nothing was said for some time.

"If you'd told me you were burying him, I would have helped," Phineas said, something caught in his throat. "Did you find his dad?"

An old newspaper was tossed back to land in front of Phineas, a blue outline highlighting the story he was supposed to read. The newspaper was dated from 2008.

"Police have identified a man who leapt from London Bridge on Friday as Alan Rains, a successful banker and widower of seven years. Authorities have encountered difficulties in contacting Rains' only son…" Phineas sighed and placed the paper aside. He was extremely worried – Ferb rarely made eye contact, but the fact that he was not looking at his brother at all was disconcerting. Phineas searched for something to say.

_Lawrence opened the door, knowing full well who would be standing there. Ferb peeked round the door too, recognising the soaked child standing on their doorstep. Thomas looked up at father and son, and spoke softly._

_"Dad didn't come home again. C-can I stay here?"_

_Lawrence nodded, and Ferb led his freezing saturated friend into the house. Lawrence sighed. Social services were doing very little – this was not the first time it had happened, and probably would not be the last. He would make another call._

"Well, Ferb," Phineas said, trying to be as comforting as possible. "Like I was saying to Isabella, there's, uh, good in everyone…" For some reason, he felt his words did not contain the same hopeful message they had before. "I mean, Thomas acted selflessly, and probably saved the day…"

"Stop." Ferb stated bluntly.

_Thomas cried in his sleep. Ferb had gotten used to that when the boy stayed over – if asked about it, Thomas would furiously deny it, and possibly become violent. However, when they both woke up in the middle of the night, Thomas out of terror, and Ferb by instinct, the boys looked at each other, fully aware of why they were both awake. Ferb pretended he was not aware, however, and Thomas was grateful._

Phineas looked taken aback, and mumbled an apology that Ferb acknowledged with a wave of his hand. Leaning his head against the tombstone, the green haired boy spoke.

"Just… let me speak," Ferb said, in a voice Phineas had not heard before. "Someone can listen to me for a change. Thank you Phineas, for coming to look for me. I know there was good in him, that's exactly why I'm upset. I made no effort to help. When they took him away after we first fought, I was angry. I didn't visit once. And before… I would have. I would have helped him, shown that there was someone that actually cared…"

Phineas thought he heard tears, but could have been mistaken. The best thing to do was merely to stay silent. He stood up, and moved closer to his step-brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ferb smiled slightly, and dried his eyes on the sleeve of his coat. Eventually he stood up.

"Thank you Phineas."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"No…not for a while I think." He smiled again, and began to walk the winding path out of the cemetery. "But you know…"

Phineas followed at a slight distance as Ferb called back in a shaky voice:

"Keep moving forward."

* * *

Perry prepared to kick down the door, and paused, thought better of it, and opened the door with his key. His nemesis waved to him from the sofa, once again dressed in his horrible dressing gown. Perry tipped a hat to Vanessa, who sat on an armchair, wrapped in a blanket. He looked around, expecting to see some sort of contraption.

"Nah," Heinz said. "Vanessa needs the company today, Perry the Platypus. You're welcome to stay though, there's schnitzel in the fridge."

Perry chattered, as if to enquire what they were doing. Heinz gestured towards the television.

"We only got to Space Adventure Seven: The Space Kablooie, so I'm resuming my marathon while Vanessa gets some rest. It's where we left off…"

The platypus agent made sure no-one else was looking, closed the blinds, and sat down on the couch. Maybe Space Adventure wasn't that bad, but he wasn't about to be seen watching it. He chattered happily as Doofenshmirtz began his nasally commentary.

* * *

Candace stretched her good arm as far as possible, but the pink cell phone was out of reach. Phineas and Ferb were up to something, she knew it. Mom would finally discover the truth, even if Candace had to stand up and walk on broken legs. A familiar voice intruded on her privacy.

"Hey Candace!" Bob called from the door, where he was accompanied by his relieved parents. The boy lumbered up to the bedside. "I just want to say thanks for everything you did for us."

Bob hugged the teenager, who winced slightly at the weight, returning the hug with one arm.

"They found your parents then?"

The man ruffled his son's hair, as if to check that the boy was really standing before him. Bob's mother smiled broadly.

"We can't believe it! We reported Robert missing almost four years ago!"

"We'd lost pretty much all hope," admitted the father.

Candace smiled, raising her head from the pillow.

"Back to Toronto, then?"

"Yeah," Bob said. "I guess… guess I'll see you around…Thanks."

"Bye," Candace said quietly as the family left the room, and blinked something out of her eye. The sudden smell of motor oil and confidence flooded the room.

Phineas, Ferb and Isabella walked into the ward, Isabella helping Phineas to carry a stuffed Ducky Momo emblazoned with the words 'I hate people'. Candace dragged herself upright in the bed, eyeing the trio suspiciously. Phineas spread his arms.

"Look what we did today!" he exclaimed

Candace frowned at the display in front of her, unsure of whether or not she should approve.

"Where are Mom and Dad?"

"Seeing about the house," Phineas said, not at all offended. "We'll rebuild it later, probably when they're visiting you."

"Make sure my shrine is exactly the way it was."

Candace surveyed the group in front of her, and slowly, cracks came through her façade and she laughed, spreading her arms as wide as she could under the circumstances.

"Come here."

Phineas and Ferb ran forward, happily accepting their sister's rare show of affection. Isabella placed the giant Ducky Momo down and glanced around awkwardly. Candace noticed.

"You too, Isabella. God knows, you'll be part of the family eventually."

Isabella joined the group hug as Linda and Lawrence walked into the ward. The parents looked at one another, and backed out of the room in search of a camera.

Moments like that were rare.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing throughout. Pre-Smile Away Thomas is more of a Jerkass Woobie than the later Ax-Crazy Psycho for Hire, and I feel that the small child in him deserves a little sympathy. Although he was nastier this time round, he became less of the Invisible Man of his roots and more like Azula from the Avatar cartoons - sure, she's crazy and evil, but you can't help feel sorry for her. Ironside however, was nothing but evil from start to finish - I deliberately avoided much backstory for him, and surrounded him with almost satanic implications - originally he even said 'Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste,' but it was left out because Ironside literally has No Sense of Humour. To end on a light, Foe Yay note, here is an exchange between Isabella and Thomas that was cut merely for pacing:**

**Isabella dragged the offensive smelling boy as quickly as she could, wanting to spend as little time as possible out in the open.**

**"Aheheh. Xion, stepping outside our roles as mortal enemies for a moment... I know you have that thing with bird boy, but... do you want to... Do something sometime? After this is all over?"**

_**"What!"**_

**And that, as they say, is all folks. Oh, Happy New Year by the way.**


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